The Vile Nine
by seann.triubhas
Summary: Au. Eleven years after the events of Hallowe'en night, Harry Potter is finally attending Hogwarts school. He is just a young boy who wants to live a normal life with his father and study magic. However. Sinister forces stir, and manipulation and deception are key to achieving one's goal. After all, normalcy for Harry Potter is never that easy. Warning- violence, language, gen
1. 1981

Chapter one

 **October 31, 1981**

 _Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick._

In a well furnished study there sat a man. Tall and slender, he was impeccably dressed in fitted robes of black cloth, while his other features consisted of dark brown hair and eyes, a long straight nose and rather angular face. To some, he could be deemed as rather handsome. His dark eyes were currently staring unseeingly as he absentmindedly tapped a quill against the pages of a journal with one hand, whilst scratching his familiar's head with the other.

He was deep in thought, thinking over all that has happened to him in the past several months.

 _Flashback- September 18, 1979_

 _"My Lord! I have come to you as instructed! I have come with information !" A cloaked figure wheezed through the doorway, stooping in heavy black robes as he attempted a quick bow in respect to Lord Voldemort. He was seated in his study looking on in amusement whilst the woman he had been in discussion with jumped to her feet, snarling. "You show too little respect for your superiors, filth, especially to our Lord!" Lord Voldemort himself just chuckled, waving a hand to calm the distressed woman._

 _"It is alright my dear, he will learn in time. Rise, my brother. Please, tell me what news you bring to me?"_

 _Voldemort sat behind his desk occupying his study, hands clasped together. The cloaked figure stood up, fidgeting slightly._

 _"I have just come from one of the meetings, my Lord, where a most startling revelation has been brought to our attention. The moment I heard of it, I knew you must be informed at once! Hence, why I have come here as quickly as I c-"_

 _"I do not have time for idle chit chat, now, tell me what this important news is!" He was starting to lose patience for the young death eater, whom seemed to have recoiled slightly at the rebuke._

 _"M-my apologies my lord." Swallowing loudly, he carried on._

 _"As I had stated, um, I have just come back from the meeting. There was nothing of significance, at first, until D-Dumbledore-" Voldemort and the woman both hissed in distaste, "-He, arrived. He came and said that something of great importance has happened." Voldemort looked on, intrigued._

 _"He claimed that there has been told a prophecy, and that it pertains to you my Lord, and a m-male."_

 _Silence pervaded, the only sound being the crackling embers coming from the fireplace._

 _Finally, the woman spoke, her eyes unblinkingly staring into the man. "A prophecy? What did it say!"_

 _"I do not know. He never said the exact words, but he did say that it was between the dark lord and a male born around the summer time, end of July it sounded like. 'He will have power the dark lord knows not'. He said nothing more about it."_

 _"You know nothing more of this? Did the old man not even explain anything at all?!" After not receiving a response, Voldemort quickly stood and went towards the man grasping his chin and forcing him to look into his eyes._

 _The man struggled at first, but Voldemort held on, as he delved into the man's mind searching out the memory of the meeting. After a minute's search he had discovered it, trying to discern any important information from it. With a snarl, he threw the young man down, whom collapsed on the ground clutching his head in pain._

 _Turning to the young woman, he spoke in anger. "It appears he is speaking the truth. Dumbledore claims a prophecy exists, and that it has to do with me and some male... Though he was purposely vague with the the details." Voldemort wandered over to the mantle, staring into the fire. "I believe though, that this individual must be a child."_

 _The woman looked on in surprise. "A child, my lord? But how? Do you know more of what the prophecy may be about?"_

 _Voldemort just shook his head, eyes narrowing. "No. As I said, he was purposely being vague. He did, however, state the other individual would be 'born as the seventh month dies', which makes me believe it refers to a child, whom has not been born. Yet. And being gifted with some power that I do not know of." Spinning around, he starred angrily at the two, both appearing to cower at the sight of his growing ire._

 _"Bella, I want you to monitor any and all witches that are expecting- starting now. They will make records at the hospital, or perhaps even in the family services department in the ministry. Do what you must to achieve this." Turning to the man whom was still sitting on the floor, "As for you, carry on with the meetings and tell me everything that happens and is discussed from now on! Information is vital, but you must maintain your subterfuge. We can't have them starting to wonder where your loyalties really lie." He smiled, his dark eyes glinting briefly with a hint of red._

 _End flashback_

He was startled out of his thoughts when the clock on the mantle had chimed out the three quarter hour. Looking, he realized that it was already 8:45 pm. He had been sitting in his study for the past three hours, waiting. In the mean time, it had allowed him to think and question certain aspects of his life.

This whole ordeal with learning of this _prophecy_ had made him seek out to make sure that it will never come to fruition. He trusted his followers, barely, though with their loyalty to him, they were willing to do anything that their master had bid them too.

Ever since one of his followers had come forward with the news of the creation of a prophecy, pertaining to him and some unknown boy, he had obsessed over trying to learn its contents which thus far he had been unsuccessful. Instead, he had followers seek out magical families that may be having a child that would fall under this criteria. He _couldn't_ leave anything to chance.

Tonight was no different.

Still, he could not help feeling the growing sense of foreboding. The longer time had gone on with no obvious success, the more he felt that something was not right. Of course, he didn't really know quite what the success would entail, nor really what the _success_ would actually be, but he felt that _he_ would be victorious in his endeavours. After all, he scoffed, he is the adult currently, where as this other prophesied one is a mere infant at best. He knew his actions were thusly justified.

Staring off into his study, the firelight flickering off the walls and mirror adorning the mantle, the Voldemort's eyes wandered over to his ornate glass cabinet, taking in his most prized belongings. A sense of possessiveness over came him, contorting his once elegant features into a sneer. How dare anyone believe that a mere _child_ could somehow possess a power unknown to him, the most powerful wizard to walk the earth!

He smiled, calming slightly when he felt the cool smoothness of his snake familiar slithering close to his legs.

 _"Ah my faithful Nagini.." He held out one long fingered hand, stroking the snakes scaly head. A hiss was all he had as a response._

 _Voldemort chuckled. "I can alwayssss trusst you, yesss."_ He knew he need not say anything. His familiar was probably the only living creature that he trusted more, certainly more so than even his followers.

He knew he was a powerful individual, he thought, both magically and intellectually. He had very little challenges, as could be seen by his support and popularity especially amongst his followers. He may not have been physically present, but he knew he was gaining control of much of the magical community. He relished at the thought of absolute power; the ability to rise and create an empire of magical beings whom would worship him, his magical ability, his prowess, and let him set the founding blocks for the new magical world that he knew was necessary for witches and wizards to truly thrive. He saw it is as necessary, as to him and many of his followers, he saw the beginning of the end of the magical world _they_ used to know. He knew he was the one that needed to prevent its loss, and make sure the magical world was not forsaken. He was their leader.

He grew angry at the thought of how it had been run, allowing anything to happen with little control or laws to govern. Traditions were disappearing, and magicals were drifting and merging back into the world of muggles. How could _this_ be tolerated? Mixing up of traditions, not maintaining the proper instruction and education in magic- he grew even angrier at such blatant disrespect towards the gift of magic.

Sighing, he tried to calm himself knowing he couldn't let such anger detract him from tonight's mission.

A flick of moisture to his hand brought his eyes to look down to his snake familiar.

 _"Nagini..."_ The snake hissed in response.

Which reminded him. He stood, slowly making his way around his desk, picking up the black journal and putting it on his book shelf. His hand drifted over the spine of the book while his eyes locked on to a small glass protective case laid face down, semi hidden, on the bottom shelf covered with a thick layer of dust and dead insects. Curious, Voldemort picked it up, vanishing the grime with a lazy flick of his hand. He froze, staring at the item in mild surprise.

 _Congratulations Tom M. Riddle, on your completion of your Seventh Year N.E.W.T.s_

 _This award and certificate is handed to the top over all student of the year, achieving the highest marks and overall average of their peers in all five core subjects._

 _This award includes a full scholarship to a...-_

Realizing he was still staring at his old school records, he snarled, vanishing the whole item as if it were nothing but unwanted rubbish, which with a smirk, was all he really saw it as anyways. He surmised it must have been sitting there for years, though how it went unnoticed to him... He was usually most attentive to his personal things. He would clearly have to go through his study again, and remove any unwanted items that may still be lingering.

 _Tom Riddle_... Now _there's_ a name he certainly no longer misses after adopting his newer title. He smirked, thinking how anyone would ever follow a powerful wizard, a _leader_ , with a name like _Tom Riddle!_ Thankfully, none of his death eater prodigies were aware of his prior history; he was very particular with how he presented himself to his followers and this included _not_ sharing his original namesake. _If they knew..._

Snarling loudly, he stopped his train of thought, glancing over the rest of his belongings with a growing smile.

Arranged before him were a collection of his most important artifacts and books that he kept in his study. He had two heavily laden bookshelves, comprising of some very rare and important tomes that varied in subject matter. Between them was the ornately carved fireplace; a gilded mirror hung above while the antique clock was situated upon the mantle. The glass cabinet stood next to the desk, behind which held the only painting that was present in the room. On the corner of the desk was situated a wooden model of the globe, but being of magical origin, it manifested all celestial bodies when directed instead of showing just Earth.

Looking back towards the painting he stared in contemplation.

It was a depiction of Adam and Eve in the garden of Eden, with both being tempted by the snake. One of the few paintings in his possession, he thought it rather fitting to own, especially for him. Symbolic perhaps, but he certainly saw it as representative of _him_ and his nature: Voldemort knew he was the embodiment of perfection. Being the most powerful wizard, gifted with parselmouth abilities from his beloved ancestors, he knew that he was chosen to be saviour of the wizarding world. He didn't succumb to temptations- at least the kinds he deemed as trivial. He saw himself as more of a combination of both man and snake- both of whom contain magical abilities. He could offer power to those who could only dream of it, but not suffer under such similar delusions himself. To some, this could be used for evil intents but he scoffed at this. There was no such thing as _good_ or _evil_. Just... power.

He did not need to be a Seer to know that he would be the one to rule and govern, and recreate an empire that even Merlin himself could not have envisioned.

He stepped forward hissing to the painting. The snake, which had been perched upon one of the lower branches of the fruit tree, turned its face, hissing in response and slithered to the base of the tree. A moment later a soft click could be heard and the painting opened towards him. Inside was a small compartment in which a small black safe had been stored.

Voldemort brought this out, placing it on top of his desk. He came back around and sat down, shifting slightly when he could feel Nagini's head drop into his lap, where he then began to pet her scaly skin.

" _Nagini... I would trusst you with thisss... But it isss unfortunate that you cannot do thisss for me."_ The snake responded with an angry hiss.

" _Alass, I have sssearched, my Nagini, but I have not found any ansswersss. I musst do it thisss way."_

Voldemort smiled, stroking the snake's head again, when his wards signalled that one of his death eaters had apparated in.

 _"Now, Nagini, I mussst go out tonight on businesss."_ The snake hissed again. _"I know, my Nagini, but it iss unavoidable. You know I cannot leave anything to fate." The snake seemed to spit in anger._ Voldemort chuckled, but became serious.

 _"I mussst assk of you, Nagini, to sstay here and guard my belongingss and the manor. They are most important to me, and I trusst no one elssse."_ The snake lifted its head up, its tongue flicking out. _"Yesss."_ Voldemort smiled, " _Do not worry, Nagini, I shall sssoon be back, and with one lesss problem."_

The snake responded with a soft hiss.

XX

It was a rather cold and windy night; the dark shadows created from the few dim lamps causing an eery effect on an already rather foreboding gravel drive. The manor home that the gravel drive led to was surrounded by a copse of spruce trees, at the entrance of which stood a weathered sign post, no longer holding its labeled nameplate. At the precise moment of 9:00 pm, a soft pop could be heard, signalling the arrival of an incoming apparation.

A heavily cloaked man, stooped slightly against the wind, entered through the heavily rusted, creaky gate and began to hurriedly make his way up the drive towards the house. He never enjoyed this place, as it was rather off putting even in the day time, so he tried to hasten as quickly as he could. He was a man on a mission and he had much news to bring. When he finally entered the foyer of the home he sighed with some relief, as he saw that the room was quite empty and on further inspection he surmised that the property itself was also. That left only him and his master. He never really enjoyed being with the _others_ , as he could barely stand the majority of them and an even fewer amount actually knew of his own identity. No, he thought to himself, he had a special role to his master.

At this, he remembered of the plan and quickly rummaged into his robes bringing out a small bottle and a vial. Opening the bottle, he dumped in the vial's contents making sure they mixed properly and watched as the potion changed from a murky brown to a deep royal blue. Holding up the potion, he smirked, "Cheers!" and swallowed down the potions contents.

The man grimaced at the taste and collapsed to his knees, gagging at the sudden pain wracking his body. _Fuck, this potion's disgusting! And why does it have to be so bloody painful?_ He was panting, sweat beading his forehead. _Shouldn't be much longer_. He chanted repeatedly in his head, groaning loudly as his limbs and spine continued contort and stretch longer, his skin bubbling away as if he were melting wax. After several minutes of laying on the floor, the man slowly stood up, his knees cracking from discomfort, and inspected himself in the hall mirror. His hair had grown significantly- both thicker and darker in colour, with a matching, groomed beard now also having been grown along his jaw. His blue eyes could see that he would need to change his clothing, as his arms and legs were protruding out of each hole with several inches of skin showing. His reflection sneered, contorting his handsome face, as the man, rather bitterly, took out his wand and transfigured his too small robes into larger ones. Finished, he turned and made his way towards the stairs.

He scurried along to the study that his master occupied, excitement starting to replace any apprehension he once may have had. Before the door he could hear a soft hissing which he realized must be his master's familiar. Silence suddenly pervaded, and then the door creaked open, with a soft "Enter'." The man entered, unbalanced slightly due to his height, and clumsily bowed down to his master's feet.

"My Lord, I have come as quickly as I could!" A cold hand grasped his chin, angling it upwards so that he may look into his master's eyes. He couldn't help but feel a little shiver creeping down his spine as he took him in.

Voldemort was truly a sight to see. He still maintained his handsome features: thick dark brown hair, tall and lean, but the only sense that he could get that something was off was his extremely pale pallor and his eyes which almost had a hint of red in them. _No_ , the man thought, _his Lordship just emanates power. Pure, raw power._ The Lord Voldemort beckoned the man to rise before him.

"Black? My my, positively sadistic aren't we?" Black smiled rather abashed, brushing the long dark hair from his eyes. Lord Voldemort chuckled, sitting back in his chair. "You have good news I hope? I have sent a few selected others to deal with the Longbottom spawn."

The man nodded, rummaging again into his pocket and bringing out a scrap of parchment.

"I have, my Lord, the address to the Potter's residence. I also know, on good faith, that they are there, alone, and that they are not expecting anyone." Lord Voldemort smiled, his teeth glinting in the light. "Wonderful! We must make haste. But first!" He turned, speaking now to his familiar. The man waited patiently as Lord Voldemort conversed, though not understanding a single word that was mentioned. Finally he turned around, clasping his hands together. "Just one last thing, _Black_ , before we leave..." He seemed to drift off here, staring contemplatively towards a small black safe situated on his desk.

Black stood awkwardly, unsure of what he should do. "M-my Lord?"

Finally he seemed to come to again. "You are most faithful to me, are you not?"

The man nodded, "Of course master! Only ever to you!" The man positively simpered. "Dumbledore is nothing but a fool. My loyalty is only in you!" At this, the man bowed down again, kissing the hem of Lord Voldemort's robes. His master just chuckled softly, "I should never doubt you, as you have proven yourself most sincerely tonight. I just have but one last request."

The man straightened, looking at his master. "Anything, my Lord."

Lord Voldemort sighed, "I am rather, wary, of this though I know I should not be. We are just merely _preventing_ what has supposedly been prophesied." He almost spat these last words out. "One can never take chances in that regard. No. But I must make sure." He seemed to have drifted off in thought.

The man started to grow uneasy. On the many occasions when he had dealt with Voldemort, anger was often times his dominant emotion. This wariness-cautiousness-, it was positively unheard of. "My Lord? Do you have second thoughts?" This seemed to get his attention. The man was slightly startled by his master's sudden ire.

"No! We will carry out this mission, and leave nothing to _chance!_ No child shall stand in my way." He sighed, calming slightly.

Standing, he turned towards the fireplace. He remained silent for sometime, until Black began to grow uncomfortable. He couldn't quite understand his master's rather ominous mood, let alone what he was thinking at the moment, but it was troubling him to see Lord Voldemort behaving so _reluctant._

Still with his back towards him, Voldemort spoke softly.

"If you had the ability, no matter the consequences, would you chose to live for ever?"

Completely surprised by the question, he didn't answer, but it seemed that Voldemort wasn't looking for any sort of response.

"What would be the point to being the most intelligent being, the most knowledgable and powerful of your kind, if at the end of it, all you had to look forward to was death." Turning to look at him, the Lord Voldemort started to caress one of his ring adorned fingers.

"Magic is a gift, to us, but it is wasted when one is just mortal."

"I-I suppose my lord, but we do not have such magic to become I-immortal.."

Nodding slightly, Lord Voldemort responded.

"Yess, that is...true.." He seemed to scrutinize him closely until Black bowed his head. Black couldn't quite understand this sudden turn in his master. It almost seemed like he was rather _unsure_ of himself.

He looked up again when Voldemort moved, running one long finger over a black safe located on the desk. With a soft click, he observed that it then opened up for him. Inside, he pulled out a wooden black box which he placed gently on top of the desk.

"Come here _Black_. I require your assistance..." Scurrying to the desk, Black looked on curiously.

Lord Voldemort turned to the wooden box, opening it from small silver hinges. Peering inside, Black could see the interior was lined with a dark green velvet upon which laid a ceremonial dagger. The dagger itself was rather simple in design, but he could tell that it was very finely made. The blade was forged of a silver like metal, the hilt covered in a black scaly material- which on closer inspection- were of two entwined snakes holding up a crystal sphere the size of a marble. Inside held some green liquid he did not recognize.

"It iss beautiful is it not?"

"Y-yes my Lord!" Black looked up to the dark lord, whom carefully picked up the dagger, rubbing his finger and thumb along the blade's edge.

"I own little in terms of property or belongings. Even lesss of which I care for, but" he waved a hand to include his whole study, "the few items in my possession, that I truly value, are here closssest to me." He turned to Black, holding the dagger in one hand and his wand in the other.

"Thisss isss a family... Heirloom.." Voldemort smiled fondly at the dagger. "It isss priceless." He looked at Black closely. "Before we depart, I wish to make an oath. You have... proven yourself to me, and as a reward for your loyalty I wish to gift you with thisss." He held up the dagger, which appeared to gleam brightly from the firelight. Black looked on in surprise. He had never been rewarded before, especially with something that Lord Voldemort himself clearly cherished.

"You are most generous my lord! I am here to serve, and surely don't need such gifts- wonderful that they are-"

Voldemort cut him off, "Yess...yesss, but I do reward those that deserve it, and I wish thiss. Think of thiss as a more intimate bond between uss, brotherss. This dagger is very important to me, therefore I wish to have a _brother_ share it. We must bond over it. Together. I have not rewarded any other follower- not even dear Bella, with such an honour. As much as she is loyal, she can be rather clumsy when it comes to taking care of one's belonginss"

Black looked from the dagger to his master, swallowing slightly.

"H-how could I deny such a gift; such an honour. Of course I will accept! W-what shall I do? You had mentioned an oath?"

Lord Voldemort smiled, his eyes flashing slightly, and brought his wand to the dagger. Black watched mesmerized, as nonverbally, a bright white light appeared from the end of the wand encasing the dagger in its light. Silently, he placed his wand in his holster and then brought the dagger to his now empty palm. He hissed a string of words, a soft glow appearing around the dagger before he sliced his palm open with the blade. Blood instantly began to well up lightly coating the dagger.

He smiled, turning to look at Black.

Knowing what he had to do, he held out his hand which his master grasped lightly. He held up the dagger, hissing, and the glow appeared again. Bringing the blade down, Black winced slightly at the pain he felt when his skin was cut open by the blade. The moment the blade was coated in his own blood, the soft glow grew brighter and changed to a crimson red. Lord Voldemort hissed once more before removing the dagger back to its cushioned box.

Black looked down at his palm, which he was surprised to see had healed leaving only a thin blackened scar.

Curious, he looked up to his master. "A blood oath my lord?"

"Yess. Something of the sort.. It is necessary for uss to be _brotherss_ after all. Thiss is a reward, _Black_ , are you not satisfied?" At Black's widened eyes he carried on, smirking. "Do not worry. Now," lord Voldemort strode forward, putting the black box inside the safe and placing it behind the painting. "we may go on. Nagini shall faithfully await for my return. No one is to enter here without my permission." The large snake coiled up, basking before the hearth of the fireplace.

Black stared on in wonder at the painting, absentmindedly rubbing the thin scar. Lord Voldemort paused, taking in his expression.

"It is safe here. You will have your chance to use it. Perhaps, one day. It is your _reward_ after all." Black nodded and exited the study at Voldemort's behest.

The two men left, making their way down to the front entryway. Lord Voldemort turned, speaking once more. "I shall give you the honours of introducing us tonight, perhaps?" Black chuckled, offering an arm which Voldemort took lightly.

They apparated, appearing in a small clearing that appeared to be surrounded by shrubbery, though everything was cloaked in darkness. Black stepped forward, casting a silencing spell on his feet. "This way, my Lord. I shall lead you to the Potters which is just beyond this grove." With this, Lord Voldemort beckoned him onwards and the two silently made their way through the trees.

The man stopped, handing him the parchment. " ' _The Potters residence is in The Grove, Godric's Hollow'."_ A soft shimmer appeared, and suddenly a two-storey thatched cottage appeared where once was but a small clearing. The two men progressed towards the door, where they could faintly hear the sound of music being played. Black knocked on the door, hearing a sudden stop in the music and heavy footsteps coming towards the door. He lowered his hood, and grasped his wand, waiting. As the door was opening a man's voice could be heard yelling out to someone else. "It's probably one of the order, Lily, don't worry. You just take Harry up to bed and let me deal with it." The door opened, and the man standing before them grinned.

"Sirius! We weren't expecting you! Not that you're not welcome he-" James Potter was blasted back, hit by a powerful stunner and crashed into the wall behind him, laying in a crumpled heap. Black stepped over the threshold, Lord Voldemort silently making his way in afterwards. Sirius stood close to the door, fiddling with his wand.

"I shall be but a moment, just wait here. If the man awakens kill him." Black nodded, leaning slightly against the wall. He watched his master make his way to the stairs, when a shrill voice could be heard. "James! Oh my God! What happened-!" Lily suddenly appeared at the top of the stairs holding her 15 month old son, Harry, close to her. At the sight of him, she just sobbed. "Sirius? What is going on? Who is-" she stopped, seeing Voldemort, and screamed clutching her son closer. "You will not take my son!" She fled, Sirius surmised, to one of the rooms. Voldemort ascended, and made his way swiftly around the corner.

He continued to stand in his spot, shifting around uncomfortably and fiddling with his wand. He felt a slight guilt but he knew that this was necessary. _My Lord had said it was necessary!_ Besides, they weren't there for the parents it was just the child. Just Harry. He swallowed heavily. He was brought out of his revery at the sound of yelling.

"No! You will not take my son! Please! Let my son be! Please, kill me and let my son live!"

"Step aside, girl! I am not here for you." "Plea-" _smash._

Black flinched when he heard the sound of a body hitting one of the walls, accompanied after by a continuation of the footsteps heading onwards. He could now also hear Harry wailing, which must be coming from the child's room. He was therefore then surprised to hear Lily's voice again.

"You will _not_ have my baby!"

"I do not care of what you want. You are too late. _Avada Kedavra._ "

Several things happened at once. The man could see a green glow wash down the wall of the staircase and he could hear the scream coming from Lily. The next moment he heard Voldemort yell and several loud thuds on the floor. Then everything was silent.

He held his breath, his body remaining frozen and unsure of what to do. All was still silent and Lord Voldemort had yet to reappear. He started to panic. _What happened?_

Making up his mind, Sirius made his way quickly up the stairs, heading towards the furthest room that was open. When he entered he was startled at what he saw. On the ground closest to him lay Lily. She was clearly dead. Her large green eyes were staring unseeingly, long red hair fanning out across the wooden floor; her wand hanging loosely in one hand whilst the other seemed to be clasped tightly. He moved past her, unable to look on any longer than necessary, and gasped loudly. There, lying by the crib, was Voldemort completely spread eagle on the ground. His eyes were staring, wide open, and with a look of utter surprise and fear written on his face. He was also dead. Black also noticed that his right hand, or what had _been_ his right hand had seared black, while his wand was lying on the floor. All was silent in the room, and he was just going to look in on the child when he could hear a faint groan coming from downstairs. Startled, he quickly stooped down and pocketed his master's wand. He knew he needed to get away before the Aurors and order members showed up. With one last glance, he transformed into his animagus form and fled from the home.

He was reaching the line of trees when he could hear the pops signalling of incoming apparitions. Within the darkness of the trees, he apparated away.

XX

 _My master is dead!_

Black staggered his way up the stairs of the manor the moment he felt his feet land on the floor of the entryway. The wards must all be gone, he surmised, as he would never have been able to apparate into the manor itself. As he made his way along the hallway to the study, he could feel the potion starting to wear off; his tall lean body starting to shrink in height to its original short roundness, and his thicker dark hair creeping back into his skull to its former short, blond, wispiness. Well, at least _that_ plan worked he thought. It was actually his idea to Polyjuice as Sirius Black, ultimately hiding his own identity and framing his friend simultaneously. Before apparating to the manor previously, he had gone out and kidnapped a muggle, forcing him to drink Polyjuice containing his own hair and then killing him and leaving the charred body in his home. It wasn't the best of plans, he admitted, but it certainly could tie up loose ends. It mattered not now, at least, as he was technically dead to the world.

The man entered the study, glancing around briefly until he spotted the painting behind the desk. Rubbing his palm with his hand, he strode towards it knowing he had little time. He wasn't quite sure why he had come back, but he had felt almost compelled, as if someone had put a compulsion charm on him, to go back to the manor; he had a great _need_ to go and retrieve the Dark Lord's dagger from his study. He thought it may have had to do with the bonding he did earlier, but either way here he was, with a strong urge to retrieve it.

He manoeuvred around the large oak desk, looking at the painting and unsure as what to do next. With a few muttered unlocking charms, he realized that no spell he knew would open it. He was beginning to contemplate blasting the thing off the wall when he heard a slithering sound, and upon looking down, he saw Nagini slide in, her large body making her way towards the desk.

"Nagini! You are still here!" The large snake was looking up at the man, its yellow eyes staring while its tongue flicked in and out.

"Look, we haven't much time. Something has happened, and L-Lord V-Voldemort .. H-he's d-dead." The snake hissed, baring its fangs. The man swallowed heavily. "Look, I'm not sure what I'm supposed to do. I need to get the dagger from the safe," here he gestured at the painting frantically, "but I can't open the damn thing! I'm not sure what to d-" a hiss was heard and suddenly, with a soft click, the painting opened. The man just blinked, realizing it must have only opened to parseltongue. He hardly thought that Nagini could have understood what he was saying, as he certainly did not speak parseltongue, but perhaps she was a bit more intelligent than the average snake.

Extending his arm, he opened the door wider to take out the safe. Inside he also found three books, two of which were blank and one small book without a title but on further inspection proved to be written in his master's writing; two glass bottles- one of which contained a pearly white liquid whilst the other contained what he gathered was blood. The moment his hand came in contact with the safe's handle the door sprung open allowing him to take out the black box. He collected all the items from behind the painting and carefully placed them in his warded bag, which he shrunk and placed in his pocket.

He took one last glance around the room before leaving. He knew he had very little time, in case the Aurors were to arrive. Since the wards were all down that would mean anyone could have access to the manor. He exited the house not really caring as to the location of the snake, and completely ignoring the rest of his master's possessions. He had collected what he needed, and was now satisfied he could leave.

With one last glance, he apparated away.

 **xxx**

 **That same night**

A tall ancient looking man, bedecked in colourful robes of deep indigo with silver thread, a long flowing white beard and matching indigo hat, made his way swiftly up the stairs of the cottage. He entered the small room, stopping at the sight before him.

A young man was sitting on the floor, holding the body of a young woman tightly to his chest. He was caressing her long auburn hair, while sobbing loudly. 'Lily?!' Was all he could get out. The old man seemed to age considerably more so, and he ventured slowly in, taking in the sight of a second body lying closer towards the crib. Voldemort. And he was dead. He stooped down, staring into the face of the man who was feared by so many. He noticed quickly the searing of Voldemort's right hand, and what appeared as scorch marks burned into the floor.He glanced around, looking for Voldemort's wand or anything else that may have been a part of Voldemort's belongings until he became aware of crying coming from the crib. With a look of sheer amazement and shock, he stood and came upon the small child that lay, crying with green eyes staring widely up at him.

On his forehead, above his left eyebrow, was a thin jagged scar in the shape of a lightning bolt.

'Harry!' Was all the man could get out, as he was still in considerable shock at what had transpired that night.

"Dumbledore..." A choked voice called. Dumbledore turned around, looking at the young man. '"James, Harry is alive. I am terribly sorry about Lily.'" James, still with tears on his face, just nodded. Dumbledore observed James to be holding something scrunched in his hand; stretching out his boney hand, he glanced at it curiously. "May I?" James nodded to him, handing him a piece of wrinkled parchment. On closer inspection he could see that it was smeared with reddish brown ink. _Blood_ , he realized.

James had gently placed Lily back onto the floor, closing her eyes softly. Kissing her forehead, he then stood up and made his way to the crib to pick up his crying son. Rocking him gently in his arms, he spoke softly to him, trying to console him and put him back to sleep. As he began to move towards the door, James stopped partway through the threshold. "I-it was Sirius A-Albus... H-he betrayed us...he brought HIM here.. And they killed Lily.." He shuddered, tightening his hold on Harry whom had begun fidgeting, silently trying to be brought back to his mother. Dumbledore watched in great sorrow as James tried to distract his son. "N-no Harry. It's ok son. S-she-" he choked out, and unable to finish, he strode through the door leaving the room never to return again. Dumbledore starred on in shock at this pronouncement. He grew saddened, trying to think as to how such a man could do such a terrible thing to his own best friend. His own _brother_!

He was momentarily distracted when a large bull patronus entered through the wall and stood before him, pawing the ground silently. Recognizing it as Moody's, he waited for the message he was to receive.

 _Albus. The Order has reconvened at headquarters. Several unaccounted for. We await your commands._ The bull gave one last silent snort before dissipating.

Knowing he would have to leave soon, he glanced down at the body of Voldemort, appearing momentarily indecisive. "He is dead..." He muttered to himself, before he waved his wand and conjured a small bottle. He knelt down, drawing out some blood from the crook of Voldemort's elbow. Stoppering the bottle, he labeled it and put it in his pocket. Turning to Lily, he hesitated.

He was divided, as he was unsure on whether he could do this. On whether he _should_ do this. He needed to know what had happened tonight, as two were dead, while young Harry clearly remained alive. Sighing, 'I am sorry Lily. Please, forgive me.', he conjured another bottle and drew some of her blood as well. This he too stoppered, labeled, and put into his pocket.

Standing, he looked to Voldemort again, quickly creating a portkey to send it to the ministry to be dealt with. With Lily, he put a protection ward on her and levitated her to the bed. After that, he left the room.

The ministry and James will handle the body of Lily, which would need to be dealt with soon. As Dumbledore descended the steps, he couldn't help but feel some happiness out of all of this. Voldemort was dead. All at the hands of this mysterious Harry Potter. And a prophecy. Dumbledore smiled. It was truly astounding. His reign was over, and the wizarding world could now celebrate his demise and live in peace. For how long, he did not know, but for now, Yes, he thought, they had much to celebrate.

 **xx**

"Dumbledore!" The bearded man turned, his robes billowing slightly. His eyes narrowed when he took in the sight of the head Auror striding towards him.

"Chief Auror Fellows... I am about to leave for the ministry. The minister needs to be informed on what has happened here tonight."

"Yes, yes I am aware of that. However, I need wizards here to conduct a thorough investigation of the premises. All our other Aurors are out currently scouring the homes of the death eater ilc or trying to locate their main headquarters. I need you to search the interior for anything of interest."

Dumbledore looked on with his piercing blue eyes, then finally he stepped forward and reentered the cottage where he encountered the few other Aurors running detection spells over all the surfaces. Acknowledging them with a small wave, he headed up the narrow stairs to the second floor having decided it would be best to start where all the action had occurred.

Inside the small room he encountered a young Auror Shacklebolt.

"Oh Dumbledore, you're back? I thought you were heading to headquarters?"

Dumbledore eyed the young man before casting a silencing spell at the door.

"I was, but unfortunately the chief Auror came upon me before I could apparate out. I had received a patronus only just earlier that the order were convening at headquarters. Auror Fellows asked me to help investigate the premises, as he appeared to be short staff."

Kingsley just nodded, "After they removed the body to the ministry, only a few remained. The rest have gone off to investigate the alarm raised by Augusta, and of a suspicious house fire out in Lionshead."

Dumbledore nodded, before heading further into the room.

"Have you found anything of interest Kingsley?"

"No, nothing that hasn't already been seen by you or from the other Aurors who've been through here." Kingsley grimaced, eyes focusing on the empty crib. "Poor James; poor _Harry!_ Can't believe what happened... " he mumbled off, turning to go and head out of the room. "I'm going to check out the other two rooms again. Call if you need me!"

Dumbledore stood, surveying the room. He took in the small bin of plush toys obviously belonging to the young child, and the now vacant bed where Lily's body had been removed from. Remus Lupin had come to collect her, as James had been too inconsolable and said he had to stay with Harry.

He turned, taking in the sight of the scorch marks left behind on the floor by the crib. Walking forward he knelt down running his hand along the ridges left behind by the burn. Lighting his wand, he let the beam fall upon the wooden floor allowing him to see with better clarity. He could see that the scorch marks had continued on to underneath the crib, though they had diminished in severity, which could explain his not noticing them before. He was just crouching down to get better wand access from under the crib when the light of his wand had illuminated something shiny hidden near the back. Waving the wand back in its general direction he could see a small object laying there, glinting under the wand's light. Deciding quickly, he summoned it silently where it landed into the palm of his hand.

It was a ring.

On closer inspection he realized it was a heavy, ornately carved ring, made of silver, with a large black stone being held in the maws of what appeared to be a wolf. Under the stone was carved the letter **G,** and all along the band were carved little runes of which he could not discern. He had the strangest feeling he recognized it from somewhere, but as to whom or where, that currently alluded him.

Staring at the ring curiously, he was startled when he heard Kinglsey asking if he was finished searching the room. Turning, he secretly pocketed the ring before Kingsley entered the room exclaiming he believes that they could move on from the top floor. The two men left, informing the chief Auror that the top floor had been investigated thoroughly and that they would leave for the ministry. As they apparated away, Dumbledore was still thinking heavily on the ring that now resided in his pocket.

 **xx**


	2. 10 Years on

**Ch. 2** **Ten Years on**

A.N yadda yadda not mine. For this piece of rubbish? I imagine no one (in their right mind) would want to claim _this_ as theirs, or some other ties etc. Self- flagellating remarks aside, let the plot commence!

 **Beginning of July, 1991** ** _Ten years later..._**

"Ah, we'll see yeh aroun' Tom! Must be off fer Hogwarts' business!"

"Alright Rubeus, enjoy the rest of your day! You as well Quirinus!" The hunched barkeep waved the two men off as they made their way through the half empty bar and out into its small unkempt back area. Taking out his wand, Hagrid tapped a few crumbling bricks making up the back wall and stepped back, watching, as they began to wiggle and merge into one another creating an archway that opened up to a narrow alleyway.

The two entered, beginning to discuss where they should start first. It was just the beginning of summer, as term had ended a mere few days prior, so thankfully Diagon Alley wouldn't be terribly busy as it usually is before school started again in the Autumn. As a result they could both shop at their leisure.

The narrow street itself was a palette of vibrant colours and sounds. Whether from the various clothing shops where their stock of robes and apparel were hanging on racks cluttering outside their boutiques; large sale signs plastered in flashing colours on their windows promoting their new summer line, or small apothecaries displaying baskets and bins of their wide range of fresh or dried ingredients, herbs, spices, live or preserved organisms, and individually potted plants. Further in the distance, a small trickle of witches and wizards could be seen making their way in and out of Gringotts bank, while others meandered into _Magicwares- A shop for all necessities._ A rather inconspicuous shop from the outside, the building was made of a light red brick- with only the two glass service doors and a large front window added. The store being of magical design, it was naturally much larger on the inside. The few witches and wizards that were leaving the shop were laden with various supplies- from books and clothing, to groceries and home necessities.

Quirrel and Hagrid continues in, stopping occasionally to greet the odd acquaintance.

"Hmm, perhaps we should go purchase our books first? Before we head to the menagerie?" Quirrel looked down at the list he had compiled earlier that day before heading out with Hagrid. "Or we could separate, so as to shorten the amount of time." He turned to Hagrid, waiting for his reply.

Both were professors at Hogwarts, co-teaching the subject of care of magical creatures. Professors Quirrel and Hagrid had been very close friends prior as they had both met when they had completed their mastery of the subject whilst studying abroad in South America. This had been over 30 years ago, and now both taught the classes together as it was a demanding course often needing the hands and wands of two professionals, instead of one. They often travelled together all over, searching out new species- both magical and non- or partaking in conferences in various cities around the world. Hagrid, whom was the bigger man of the two, was much stronger in brute force so often times he handled the creatures. It wasn't surprising to learn that he favoured in researching on more dangerous creatures which included all breeds of dragons, trolls, hippogryphs, or really anything with a rather large body mass. What was surprising, when one got to know him, was that he was a very kind and gentle man.

Quirrel, whom was much smaller in stature, made up for his lack in body strength with a very strong knowledge of organic magic- which was a branch of transfiguration, charms, and Earth magic- which constitutes as a mix of anatomical studies, alchemic transfiguration , and Earth sciences. He had an excellent memory too, so he was often the one lecturing while Hagrid would show the creatures. He was also quite agile, so that had helped him in several dangerous situations where magic alone wasn't enough. Because of this, they shared a rather symbiotic relationship when it came to teaching their classes.

"Nah, migh' as well stick tergether as I need ter pick up some articles I ordered. Also need ter enquire abou' bringing in those nifflers we were told abou'. I met the breeder, Jim, fer drinks with Aberforth- you know the fellow we met las' year at- at..." Hagrid rubbed at his beard, brow crinkled in thought. "Hmm, can't seem teh remember! No matter. Turns out he's a specially licensed breeder, and offers special shipments fer educational purposes. It's righ' convenient as his brother works 'ere at the menagerie so we could get a word in with him!"

Agreeing upon this, they both headed on, stopping briefly in Gringotts before entering a small, shabby bookshop, titled _'Paws & Claws Bookshop' __*****_ in curling gold letters, off the alley. Bookshops, like Flourish and Blotts, were excellent in supplementing the necessary books for students, or best sellers that catered to most witches and wizards, however, more specialized books, rare volumes, or used material were often found in smaller niche shops. This shop they entered specialized in magical creatures, catering to those in the field of teaching, research, and care and development of any and all magical creatures, or to those with an interest in the subject. Here they needed to pick up the monthly periodicals that Hagrid had ordered along with a recently published book pertaining to crossbreeding of dragons. Quirrel had a strange suspicion he knew what Hagrid was buying it for.

"This here should help identify a' least! All them books a' Hogwarts are outdated a' best." Hagrid smiled, picking up the colourfully embroidered tome and waving the book before Quirrel. "I know tha' egg we foun' in the forest was somethin' diff'rent, 'cause we haven' found anythin' related to tha' species of egg- an' I know me eggs."

Quirrel looked at Hagrid in amusement. "Are you so sure it is a dragon Hagrid? It could easily belong to some other specie we've overlooked."

Hagrid just looked on unconvinced as they continued to peruse the shelves, waiting for the proprietor to retrieve Hagrid's order.

"I tell yeh, I jus' know it's a dragon!" He smiled proudly.

"Well, I can get in contact with some of the handlers. I'm sure they could recommend a place for relocation. Also, if it hatches, I will have to do check how much we have left in congealed blood, as I'm not sure what we currently have- volume wise. Rats or other small mammals should suffice for after it's been weaned."

Hagrid stopped at this. "Eh, I almos' forgot! Got teh stock up on more traps; seems we got a bit of a pest problem, at least around the hut. I swear Filch's dust collector fer a cat is absolutely useless." He grumbled on.

Quirrel chuckled, "I suppose we could fit in a quick stop to Magicwares, but I believe the menagerie also supplies traps for such things... Oh!" Quirrel exclaimed, a sly grin appearing on his lips. "Since we are here, we could pick up that new book Gilderoy published. I believe it is actually devoted to household pests? We could split the two Galleons?" Hagrid just grimaced, Quirrel patting him on the arm whilst chuckling. "I swear tha' man will write anythin' fer a Knut. Pro'bly do anythin' too..."

At that point, the proprietor appeared from the back room, holding up a stack of magazines neatly tied with twine. Smiling, he held up the bundle to show Hagrid as he approached the register.

"Here you go Hagrid! I must say, you will probably enjoy this month's article that Tilson wrote; his medical knowledge is quite impressive." Both men smiled, while Hagrid grasped the articles.

"Thank yeh, Remus, I'll make sure teh read abou' it! I think tha's everything- oh! Yes, this here book too. Found an interestin' egg in the forest the other day." Both Remus and Quirrel maintained a fixed smile as Hagrid explained with enthusiasm of his discovery.

Several minutes later found Quirrel and Hagrid back outside in the alley making their way to the _Magical Menagerie & Emporium. _More specifically, their Special Supplies and Order department. Here, they could make vast orders, which often comprised of food and healing supplies for creatures they would be teaching on. The menagerie itself didn't house many dangerous creatures- only standard small mammals, reptiles, birds, and some rather benign magical species, but it did have many connections to special breeders or privately and ministry run natural sanctuaries where many magical and non magical creatures were protected.

Naturally, after their exciting business had been completed at the bookshop, their discussion revolved around the topic of Hogwarts. Mainly, whom would be the new staff member come September.

"Have you heard whether Albus has found a new defence instructor yet? It is only two months away! You know how it usually takes several months to process in a new professor. I remember it took Albus eight months to get back to me before hiring me on staff." Quirrel spoke, momentarily stopping to peer in the shopfront of Coral's Specialty Cleaning Supplies. A display of the shop's brand of magical mess remover was being advertised, discounted at fifteen percent off if the purchaser buys in bulk. Quirrel scrunched his eyes, trying to remember how much of that particular potion remained in their classroom storage at Hogwarts.

Both Hagrid and Quirrel knew, that, to become a professor, particularly one to teach at one of the finest institutions available, meant that requirements were very high, therefore finding viable candidates for the position was rather quite limited. A Mastery was required for their selected course, though often times it was preferable and necessary to have at least two, along with a minimum of five years experience outside of their mastery program, and publishing a research based peer-reviewed paper- which for them, would be their own personal research project and thesis. These varied, from being published in niche magazines, to their own books, or articles that could be read and studied by other masters or students in their field. In Hagrid's case, he had a mastery in Magical Creatures Anatomy and a full licence in the teaching and controlling of magical creatures. He also wrote quite often for _Of Wands & Wildlife: European Edition, _an article published monthly that focused on magical agriculture, husbandry, and regulated breeding of magical species located in Europe. In Hagrid's case, he would usually discuss his findings of controlled eating conditions he implemented on creatures at Hogwarts; being quite involved in healthy and environmentally friendly eating habits, he could put forward proposals on better ways of feeding special magical creatures.

Under the pen name _Beast of Burden (_ or BOB for short), he became quite renowned for his expertise in the average wizarding household as he had produced some of the more successful dietary recommendations for weight loss in overweight Abraxan horses - as the weight gain had inhibited them from being able to fly. Ironically, it wasn't so much the diet plan that was written originally for the horses that had made young Hagrid- or BOB, extremely successful, but that the diet had been adopted by a very frustrated and fed up housewitch whom was tired of her husband's ever increasing waistline. Surprised, and ultimately ecstatic at her success, she wrote an article for _Witch Weekly_ , explaining this fail safe method for all frustrated witches and wizards everywhere.

Quirrel, on the other hand, had joint mastery of Magical Creatures Anatomy and History of Magical Creatures, along with his specialized study in Organic Transfiguration. He had become quite well known in this particular field of research as he had successfully created a new species of amphibian, with magical abilities, that he had done through a combination of transfiguration, transplantation, and insemination from two previous species of the same genus-one magical breed and the other non. This had been an ongoing study for many years, as many who worked in the health department and those who studied and mastered transfiguration could attest. For many years, medical treatments were treated in the traditional sense- through potions, healing charms, or magical creatures with healing abilities, while the concept of transfiguring organic matter, for the purpose of healing, was still very much experimental. All of the current treatments were completely acceptable, with often satisfactory results, though charms only worked as a form of magical adrenalin, stimulating the witch or wizard's own magic to help heal themselves quicker. The body still would have to heal themselves after all. Potions were either an orally taken or externally prescribed treatment to most ailments, often a substitution to magical remedies as very little magic was involved in the process. They are highly sought after, as potions are a far more successful and faster method of treating a patient than only using charms. However, potions never cured 100%, and not every ailment had a potion for a solution. There were also the limitation in ingredients, potions master's, eventual immunity and allergies to certain potions and ingredients, and a problem of inefficiency due to the amount of time most potions would take to brew. As a result, most potions were quite expensive to purchase. The use of magical creatures for their healing properties, well, those _would_ certainly be a solution to most debilitating conditions, often times with a result of completely curing the individual of all ailments with little recuperating and side effects. However, as almost all magical species that do have a form of healing magic tend to be either extremely rare, or not forthcoming, they are often categorized as the 'if we have, we use' solution.

Therefore, because of his successful, experimental achievement, he had given 'life' to more exploration in a relatively unknown field.

Essentially, it could be reasonably understood for their growing curiosity-and concern, as a professorship at Hogwarts is not easily filled out. Quirrel knew both he, and Hagrid, had spent many years prior to their current positions researching and working in various places, so he naturally assumed the position for defence would easily expect a candidate with the same level of competency and knowledge.

A loud snort brought Quirrel's attention back to Hagrid, who seemed to be amused of something. Of what, Quirrel was curious to know, as he would often wonder at times what thoughts were crossing that giant man's head of his. "No, he didn' say anythin' teh me... But I think he's gettin' a little worried abou' not findin' someone in time. He even asked ME at the las' staff meetin'! God, I've never seen Minerva laugh so hard!" Hagrid chuckled softly. Quirrel smiled, but secretly was happy for Hagrid's denying the position, though as much as he trusted the man he didn't particularly believe him in sticking to any sort of regulated curriculum- especially if anything had the words 'exciting' and 'dangerous' used as a description. He knew that Hagrid _could_ be quite formidable when brandishing his wand in a duel. "Besides, I like me classes! They're grea' fun, an' I know the kids love 'em too! We make a great team!" Hagrid smiled, clapping Quirrel on the back with a bit to much force, resulting in him careening forward and into an on-coming shopper. Both men went toppling to the ground, with Quirrel's shopping and the man's belongings sprawled all over the cobblestoned street. Picking himself up quickly, Quirrel summoned his scattered shopping and shrunk them to tuck inside his cloak.

"Oh I am terribly sorry! Are you quite alright?" Quirrel asked trying to offer a hand to the young, thin man whom had still remained on the ground. Hagrid looked on guiltily. The young man stood up quickly, realigning his twisted, frayed cloak, and swept the hood back over his thin, prematurely greying hair. Turning to the two, he accepted the small leather bag from Quirrel who had picked it up along with his scattered shopping. The young man peered at them both with two slightly narrowed eyes before finally speaking.

"That is quite alright. I wasn't paying attention myself." He croaked out. Stepping around both Quirrel and Hagrid, he dusted his robes off once more before he quickly carried on down the alley.

The two stood there for a few seconds as the rest of the shoppers moved on.

"Sorry 'bout tha'... I always forget abou' me strength."

Quirrel smiled and shrugged his shoulders. "No matter. Shall we go on?" With Hagrid's nod, they ambled on.

They were just almost to the menagerie, talking over what inventory was the most critically in need of restocking when Hagrid suddenly let out a surprised grunt and stumbled forward, which in itself wasn't a cause for concern per say, but him being a very big man in a small narrow street could cause quite the panic. Thankfully, as Quirrel brought out an arm in the hope of trying to offer some semblance of balance for him, Hagrid regained his equilibrium.

"Are you alright Hagrid? Must have hit a cobblestone..." He looked back seeing no obvious protrusion.

"Eh... Maybe..." Hagrid stood shakily, having to lean into the wall slightly for support. Alarmed, Quirrel moved forward, instantly coming to Hagrid's side. He couldn't help the sudden growing concern he felt for his large friend. "What's wrong Hagrid? Are you ill?"

"Nah.. Just..Got a headache.. I think I'll head back ter the school actually... Prob'bly need a good rest or summat." He said a little weakly. On closer inspection, Quirrel could see he did look a little peaky. Beads of sweat were dotting his forehead, his brow lined with tension, while his cheeks had grown a blotchy, red flush. Alarmed, Quirrel held his friends arm gently.

"I- yes, that would probably be best. Would you like me to accompany you?"

Hagrid just waved his hand dismissively. "Nah, you go an' get what yeh need. Don' let me stop yeh. I'll be fine soon enough! Say 'ello teh John fer me an'.. an' let him know I'll owl him abou' the nifflers." He then waved, moving away from the wall on shaky legs. Taking a deep breath and smiling weakly at Quirrel, he turned on the spot with a resounding crack so loud it rattled the shop windows. A few shoppers nearby had startled at the sound, ducking slightly, but grumbled to themselves when they realized it was just rather exuberant disapparation.

Frowning slightly, Quirrel turned to head towards the shop. Pausing just before the entrance, he pulled out the list once more to see exactly what he would need to order for the summer and upcoming term. He knew that, as they dealt with varying sized (though often large) creatures, that often meant large orders were made as the creatures themselves did consume quite a bit. He thought, though, the addition they added to the hut now was working very well indeed. Quirrel, smiling, was quite proud of Hagrid's and his experimental- and successful, attempt at growing part of the food required for the creatures they teach. After receiving permission from the Headmaster, both Hagrid and Quirrel worked alongside NEWT students to complete a full pasture and greenhouse alongside the hut where they could grow and raise specialized plants and animals used for food. It was a learning experience for the students, plus it greatly reduced the price from the school budget.

He scrunched his eyes, with one hand holding the list and tapping it against chin while the other was wrapped loosely around his waist.

"Perhaps we should wait on ordering anymore flubberworms- goodness knows they are, _really_ , rather an unnecessary cost, plus one of the easier creatures to breed in large numbers. And it is still early in the season..." Seeming to have come to a decision, he re-pocketed his list. Stepping forward once more, he extended his arm, about to enter the shop when he froze suddenly, his hand still extended. He held this posture for a mere few seconds, until he slowly drew his hand back and looked down at his wrist watch. It was not quite 10 a.m. Shaking his head, he blinked, sighing aloud as he remembered, clearly, that he had a package he needed to pick up. Without entering the shop, he turned around and quickly made his way in the opposite direction.

The shop's frosted glass door opened and closed quickly as Quirrel unobtrusively slid himself inside through the door's narrow gap. Other than the soft click of the door's lock, the only other sounds disturbing the dusty silence of the shop came from the soft tinkling bell above the door and his steady breathing. He swiftly made his way up to the front counter, ignoring the other objects left on display. He had limited time to come here, with Hagrid's earlier departure truly being a lucky convenience. Hagrid was his friend, Quirrel distantly thought, but he knew that Hagrid would not have been fond of this place, so he _knew_ that it would be better that he just come here alone.

Standing before the clerk's desk, he cleared his throat.

"Mr. Borgin! I require your assistance!"

He only waited a few seconds, until a short, round shaped man with dark oiled back hair and smelling strongly of aftershave ambled in through a curtained doorway from behind the counter. With a quick glance up at the professor the man finally spoke, his voice as oily as his hair. "What can I do for you sir?"

Bending slightly, Quirrel just smiled. "I am here to pick up a package I had specially ordered. Name is Q. Quirrel." Mr. Borgin looked up at him, his little dark eyes narrowing slightly, until he finally nodded. "Only be a moment."

Quirrel stood there for several minutes, staring off at a display of bloodied playing cards in a glass containment, all of which he could see depicted a rather grotesque macabre version of their muggle (non-moving) originals. He snorted slightly, wondering if these had once belonged to Professor Trelawney at some point. She played cards... Or was that Filch? He couldn't seem to remember, not that he _really_ cared of course. Still staring vacantly, he turned only when Mr. Borgin came back holding a small, rather nondescript wrapped package.

"Here ye are. I received it just today, actually." Quirrel nodded, smiling in thanks; taking the package he shrunk it and placed it into one of his pockets. Mr. Borgin glanced at some of the other displays, before finally speaking. "Anything else I can assist you with? This too came in the today!" Grinning lasciviously, he pointed a ringed finger at the bloodied deck of cards. "Excellent entertainment, especially as they are protected with rather _creative_ anti-cheat spells. Trust me, you don't want to be caught doing that. Last bloke lost more than a bit o' Galleons from that deck, as ye' can probably see!." He smirked before turning to the case, and without taking the cards out, he levitated it to the counter. "Got to be careful with them, as they bond with the first one that touches 'em. The last owner died, so now they can find a new owner. Would you be interested in barga-"

Smiling, Quirrel shook his head, interrupting him partway through. "No no. That will be all, Thank you." Mr. Borgin grunted, levitating the cards back to its original spot. He was just turning to head towards the curtain when Quirrel called him back.

"Oh yes, I almost forgot! There is just one more thing."

Before Mr. Borgin could even reach his own wand, Quirrel had summoned his own and pointed it into the proprietor's face.

" _Obliviate._ " Putting his wand back into his wrist holster, Quirrel smiled at the slightly dazed shop owner.

"Thank you again Mr. Borgin. Good day." With one final smile, Quirrel left the store.

 **xx**

 **September 1st, 1991**

An 11 year old boy was sitting in a train carriage, staring out the window deep in thought. He had messy black hair, bright green eyes, and a slim frame- though at that moment it was hidden beneath the folds of his black Hogwarts cloak. His name was Harry Potter and currently, he was thinking back to the past half hour, ignoring the loud noises and voices outside his window from the families saying good bye to their children as they were leaving for Hogwarts. Harry grinned. He was finally going to Hogwarts! He was so excited, he could barely contain himself. He remembered how he had run in to his father's bedroom to wake him early that morning. It had only just chimed 5 am. To say that his father was happy to be wakened at such an early hour was only proven false when his father had yelled at him, 'It's 5 am Harry! Get back to bed!' When Harry had finally gotten up at a more reasonable hour, it was for him to find his uncle downstairs making breakfast rather than his dad. Harry's father couldn't take him to the platform himself, as he had to head to the ministry for work, so his uncle had been asked to take him in his stead. Harry was quite used to this, as his father was often busy with work, so Harry was usually found in the company of one Remus Lupin.

Harry was roused from his thoughts as the door to his compartment opened, and a familiar chubby boy with soft brown hair and a round face entered.

Beaming, Harry sat up to greet the boy properly. "Hey Neville! Here, let me help you with your trunk." Harry stood, and both boys lifted Neville's trunk to the luggage rack, tucking it in beside Harry's. Wiping their foreheads, they both sat down.

"How was your summer, Harry?" Neville was smiling, as he stretched out onto the seat opposite his. On closer inspection, Harry could see that the boy had significantly tanned, though it too was partially covered in his Hogwarts robes.

"It was pretty descent, though I spent most of it with Uncle Remus helping him at his shop! He tutored me on some of the first year studies too!" Harry said rather excitedly. "I did go to the coast briefly, but it rained the whole time. What about you Nev?"

Neville grinned brightly. "Mine was amazing! Gran and my uncle Algie and I travelled to the South Pacific where we did some exploring." At Harry's bemused expression, Neville just sighed, "well, my uncle did research, but I got to see some really neat things! You know how he is a collector of insects? He calls it e-etymology I think?" Harry nodded rather squeamishly while Neville laughed and carried on. "Well, he wanted to go and search for some really exotic specimens! The place he works for sent him, though uncle wouldn't really say anymore, which makes me think it is some sort of secret assignment." The two boys shared looks of great interest.

"What did you do while your uncle was searching for insects?" Harry's nose wrinkled at the thought of the many legged critters.

Neville beamed proudly. "I actually got to join him most of the time! I even collected some specimens of my own! But mine are of the plant variety, though honestly Harry I kinda think you would know that already." Harry laughed, as he knew it was true. Neville and botany went together almost synonymously. Harry grinned at Neville, whom seemed to glow with excitement. "I got to collect some seed samples from the Draconis Ash Lilies, which our guide there told me the pollen and stamen were used for ingredients in burn salves, particularly against dragon burns! It was really hard to find, as the flower only grows in tropical climates, and gains its nutrients from the ashes left behind from dragon fire. It took ages for me just to find one!" At this Neville sat up and started rummaging in his book bag, which he had carried on alongside his Hogwarts trunk. After digging around, he finally exclaimed a 'yes! Here we go'. Turning back to a curious Harry, he held up a small album. "I have some photos from the trip, if you want to see!" At Harry's excited nod, Neville sat next to him, and the two became immersed in the photos with Neville explaining the story behind each one.

They spent the next hour in this position, enjoying the time looking over the photos. Neville explained the many different islands he had gone to with each one hosting a unique and diverse ecosystem both on the island and in the water. Harry saw images of Neville and his uncle traveling with magical native tribes deep in the jungle-like forests, where they showed them elusive magical and non-magical animals, insects, and plants which Neville had said the guides explained were used for medicinal and magical rituals. There were images of his uncle and himself climbing the giant rubber trees collecting the honey and larvae from the hives of the gargantuan tricoloured honeybee. One close up shot of the moving image, Harry could see Neville's uncle holding what appeared to be a very angry red, gold, and black stripped buzzing humming bird, but on closer inspection he realized it was a massive bee, a very angry massive bee, that was being held by a pair of tweezers; its back arching underneath like that of a scorpion, trying to sting his hand with an inch long stinger. Harry gulped, not wanting to imagine the pain one would experience from a sting like that.

Other photos Harry viewed showed Neville traversing slowly down the rocky side of a volcano where smoke could be seen puffing out from its fissure like little grey clouds. Another one was him underwater with his uncle and another two divers collecting some pink coral and sea cucumber; for his uncle a rather long centipede like creature.

A knock on the carriage door produced the smiling face of the lunch lady pushing the trolley. At the sight of her, Harry felt his stomach grumble- and by the sounds he heard from Neville, his did too. Neville put his photos away in favour of eating and their discussion moved on to the topic of their upcoming year. Or more specifically, what was Hogwarts going to be like.

Digging in his pocket for some sickles, Harry spoke to Neville as the boy was picking his items off the trolley.

"My dad didn't say _anything_ about what first years have to do! Neither did my uncle! The only thing they said was that it should be a 'fun surprise'." Thanking the witch, Harry closed the carriage door as he pocketed his change. "I'm hoping for Gryffindor, you know, as both my parents were from there!" Harry grinned as he deposited his cauldron cakes on the seat next to his healthier bagged lunch that Uncle Remus had provided. Rummaging inside, he pulled out a sandwich and a bottle of chilled milk. "Plus, my dad said it _is_ the coolest house to be sorted into." Both boys laughed, as they knew secretly that it was purely bias on Harry's father's part. Every one thought their own house was cool.

Neville just smiled rather sheepishly. "I wouldn't mind Gryffindor, but I don't feel very brave. Or clever, which rules out Ravenclaw. I suppose Hufflepuff wouldn't be too bad. My gran was a Gryffindor while uncle Algie was in Ravenclaw, so I know they'd be happy if I was sorted in either of those. Plus, well, you know...mum and dad..." Neville drifted off, squirming slightly. Harry looked away, trying to think of something else to say. He understood exactly how Neville felt. Both he and Neville had lost parents and loved ones during the war, though Harry felt a little fortunate; where he at least still had his dad, Neville lost his mum, dad, and baby sister all in one night. Turning to face Neville, he smiled. "Hey Neville, I'm sure they'd be happy of you being sorted in any of the houses!" Neville grinned, "well, as long as I _do_ get sorted. Wouldn't that be a right laugh!"

The boys laughed, slowly eating through their lunch, when they were interrupted yet again from any further discussion. A girl with bushy brown hair opened the carriage door; leaning against the frame, she looked on at them rather timidly.

"Excuse me, but is there any room to sit? All the other carriages are r-rather full." The boys just nodded, Neville shuffling over so as to help her with her trunk. Before he could anything, she dragged over trunk and lifted it easily to put on the rack above Neville's seat. Neville and Harry both stared at her in wonder. After she settled down, Harry shook his head before smiling. "Hello! I'm Harry, and this is my friend Neville!" She gave a rather subdued "hello" and introduced herself as Hermione Granger. She then pulled out a rather heavy looking book from her book bag and immersed herself in it, ignoring the two boys whom just looked at each other. Neville just shrugged mouthing ' _girls?'_ and changed the subject to Quidditch. They continued on this choice of topic for several minutes, when the door opened a third time and a young boy with combed blond hair and meticulously tailored robes entered. He was by himself, and both Harry and Neville recognized him instantly.

Harry knew Draco, as Harry's father would see Malfoy Sr. at the ministry often enough. Because of this, Harry would see Malfoy Jr. as well. They didn't really run in the same circle though, with the few times they usually would meet up being at formal events or parties. As Harry's father tended to avoid such gatherings, that meant Harry too would not be there. Malfoy looked at the two boys and then at the young girl whom just sat frozen in the corner, her eyes just staring fixedly at the page. He scowled at her before turning back to the two boys. "There you are, Potter, Longbottom. Have a good summer?" Both Harry and Neville nodded, with Harry finally responding. "You?" Draco grinned. "It was great! Father took me to see the World Cup this year in Spain! I have photos if you want to see them. Even have some autographed!" He said smugly. "They're in a carriage further back where some of the other first years are sitting." He quickly glanced back towards Hermione. Looking at the boys he continued on. "You two should come join us, you know, where non-annoying people are." Here he looked rather pointedly at the girl before his eyes flickered back to Harry and Neville. "We purchased several items off the trolley, plus Zabini brought along a pack of Exploding Snap." Hermione was clearly trying to ignore them, blinking away any tears that tried to make their way down her reddening cheeks. Harry just looked at Malfoy, narrowing his eyes. "I think we're okay for now Malfoy, maybe next time. All our stuffs here," he gestured to his luggage and Neville's, "and I'm kind of comfortable." Malfoy just smirked, rolling his eyes. "Okay Potter. Longbottom. If you change your mind, you know where to find us. See you around." Muttering to himself, he left the carriage compartment.

All was silent except a soft sniffling sound coming from the girl. Turning towards her, Neville asked quietly, "Um, are you alright Hermione?" Hermione just seemed to shrink further into her seat, whom had obviously been upset by Draco's slight. "You know, if Malfoy was bugging you, you should just ignore him." Neville turned back to Harry, "He's all talk, usually. Gran can't stand his dad 'cause he always puts on 'airs'. What ever that means." That seemed to earn a giggle from Hermione. Harry grinned, "Yeah, that's what my dad said too. Draco is usually not as bad though." Hermione, after putting down her book turned to the boys, curiosity getting the better of her. "You both are from wizarding families?" Both boys nodded.

"Both my parents were pure blood." Neville answered scrunching up his face in thought. "Gran used to make me read up on the family tree, but I can't remember exactly how far back we go..."

Harry smiled, "My dad is a pure blood, while my mum was a muggleborn. Technically, that makes me half blood." Hermione's eyes seemed to widen at this exclamation. "Your mum was a muggleborn? That's what the professor explained to me when I had been visited this past summer." At Neville's confused look, Hermione explained further. "A professor from Hogwarts came to my house and explained this whole world to me, as really before now, I didn't even _know_ magic existed. She said- she said I was classified as a muggleborn in the wizarding world, as I was born to two non magic individuals." Putting her book in the seat, she sat up properly. "I read everything I could, when I found out I was a witch! My parents didn't believe it at first, of course, as magic isn't really _real_ in, well, the muggle world." Neville just looked on in surprise. Harry just rolled his eyes. "Neville, you knew that!" Turning to Hermione, "Not everyone knows much about the muggle community, as we kind of keep to ourselves. I actually have muggle family," Harry said bitterly, "on my mum's side of course, but we don't see them." Hermione just nodded absentmindedly at his remark, chewing on her lip.

"Do you think I will be terribly far behind? I mean... This is all so new to me.." She drifted off, glancing at her book which Harry realized was an _Encyclopedia Brittanica: Wizard Civilization 500B.C- 1990's A.D_

"Don't worry, you'll probably catch up in no time. Besides, I doubt I am a very good wizard and I'm _from_ a wizarding family." Neville had stated rather glumly, answering Hermione's worried question. Harry gave Neville a comforting smile.

"Of course you're a good wizard, Neville. And don't worry Hermione, there are other muggleborns too, though I bet there will be plenty of others who don't know very much and they're from magic families."

Hermione grew positively even more excited. "Do you think we will start doing magic right away? I learned some charms from our first year book- just for practice of course, and so far they have all worked! I've read all the other books though too, and they are all so fascinating. I think my favourite has to be transfiguration though, as the theory for it is far more _scientific_ you know? You are actually changing an object's molecular structure!" Neville just seemed to be completely lost, while Harry started to laugh at his obvious confusion. Harry understood some of this, or the extent of what 11 year olds' knowledge of chemistry could consist of. His father had some old books that he had kept, which had belonged to Harry's mother. Supposedly she was quite interested in what they called 'muggle science', even though in the magical community they still learned similar things though with magic as an extra component. After all, you did need to know what you were transfiguring or charming before actually using any magic on it.

Hermione blushed, eyes widening slightly. "Sorry, I tend to babble when I'm excited." She smiled weakly.

Neville grinned, "It's ok, I just don't know half of what you are talking about though."

Hermione smiled, but faltered, "Yes, I tried to talk with that- that boy earlier. Draco I believe... I went into their compartment and found out they were all first years.." She blushed again, "I don't think they liked me very much..."

Neville just patted her shoulder sympathetically, "It's ok Hermione, you can stay here with us!" Grinning again, he turned to Harry. "Besides, they're probably just jealous, 'cause you probably know more than they do. Their loss, really."

Hermione beamed at his compliment.

Harry had a sudden thought.

"Is that how you lifted your trunk up? Those things weigh a _tonne_! I had to get help from one of the prefects to get mine on the luggage racks for me." Hermione actually seemed to become quite smug at this comment. "I used a feather-light charm on it. In the end, it was more like lifting a pillow than that clunky thing. Took me quite a few tries to finally get the spell though." She sighed rather putout.

Neville looked at Hermione in awe, while Harry just grumbled. "Why didn't I ask uncle Remus to do that! Would have been so much easier! And how do you know that charm already? I don't even think it was in our first year books?" Hermione blushed.

"I did a little extra reading... So, um, can I ask a question?" Harry and Neville blinked, exchanging a quick glance with each other.

"Sure Hermione! Ask away!" Neville laughed.

"Um, what is Quidditch?"

It was drizzling when they arrived at Hogsmeade station, where they were then met at the platform by Professor Hagrid who was situated under a rather large, lurid pink umbrella. Harry had met the man a few times, as he would run into the man at the bookstore that Lupin owned in Diagon Alley. Hagrid also had known- and taught, his father and his uncle when they were boys in school. A large man of at least 8 1/2 ft, he had scraggly hair and and matching beard which was interspersed with a few braids and coloured beads. He had warm, beetle black eyes, and was quite often found wearing his custom fitted brown, wool coveralls, faux mock-skin overcoat, and smoking his pipe. Today was no different.

"Gather roun' firs' years! Gather roun'!" Switching the umbrella to the other hand, he brought out his wand and cast a lumos spell so that the students could see him clearly, though that wasn't a huge challenge to start.

By this point Harry, along with all the other first years, were standing in nervous excitement as they would soon be making their way to the castle, ready to find out what house they were to be sorted into.

Hagrid separated the first years from the rest of the student body, explaining that it was tradition for the first year students to arrive separately from the rest, a sort of initiation into the school though he also added that it was more likely because the view was lovely from the lake. He led them from the platform down a cobbled street, taking them to where the street ended overlooking a large body of water. Descending down stone steps, Harry and his classmates were led to the docks where they found a fleet of enchanted boats bobbing lightly in the dark water. Getting into a significantly larger boat, Professor Hagrid spoke, while gesturing to the surrounding boats. "Four students per boat please!"

Harry, Neville, and Hermione sat in one though they were also joined by a dark skinned boy, whom they learned on introduction to be named Dean Thomas. When they were travelling across, they all exclaimed aloud at the sight of Hogwarts, for all four it was the first time any of them had ever seen it.

Hermione explained excitedly that the journey by boat, which Hagrid had explained to them earlier, was also used as a form to introduce the first years to the wards that surrounded Hogwarts.

"I read in _Hogwarts, A History_ that it had been done this way for centuries; traversing the lake by boat before entering the castle. Supposedly, it stated, it was because the students had to enter 'passively', and that you couldn't breach the castle any other way if you weren't recognized by the wards first. We go by boat first," she pointed in awe looking towards the oncoming shoreline. "then we can enter the castle! I'm not sure where the wards start, though I assume we have already gone through them?" Harry squinted back towards the dock they left near Hogsmeade. "Um, I think it starts at some point in the lake, 'cause my dad said that the lake was on the Hogwarts property when I asked him how big the place was."

"Hmm, that makes sense. My Gran said that before Hogsmeade even existed the only method of getting to Hogwarts was by boat, as the main road in didn't exist. They had wards preventing apparition into the school, plus you couldn't just walk in through the grounds. I guess they still follow those rules?"

Hermione nodded, preparing to respond but she was interrupted when their boat gently came onto the shore, alerting them to their arrival. Hagrid arrived last, making sure all students were accounted for and smiled kindly to all of them.

"Welcome ter Hogwarts! This was just the firs' stage gettin' yeh here, all we are waitin' on is fer professor S-! Ah! Hello there Professor Sprout! Ready ter take 'em fer there sortin'?" The professor in question had just came forward, having rounded the bend from a grove of trees which lined a part of the shore. She was a small, older witch, slightly plump, clothed in form-fitting robes with a head covered in short iron grey curls and a weathered witches hat positioned on top. She smiled warmly down at them all before speaking to Professor Hagrid.

"Yes, Professor Hagrid, we are all ready for you to arrive. The other students have just arrived themselves." Turning to the nervous students, she beckoned them to follow her. "Please, follow me students. I am Professor Sprout, as Professor Hagrid had

mentioned earlier. We will soon be arriving to our final destination."

With this, they made their way along the path after waving goodbye to Professor Hagrid along the way. He had exclaimed aloud that he had to untether the thestrals and return them to the forest paddock, so he will see them in the Great Hall. The path itself led to a main road, which Professor Sprout explained was the main entrance way to Hogwarts from the town of Hogsmeade. When they reached the main steps leading into the school, Professor Sprout turned to the small group peering over each student quickly.

"Now, before we enter, I would just like to extend a warm welcome to all of you! I imagine this must be quite exciting and nerve wracking, but you must not worry yourselves, for Hogwarts and its inhabitants are here for you, and will help you whatever way they can. The four houses are Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, Slytherin, and Gryffindor. I am Head of Hufflepluff house so if you have questions or concerns you may always come to me with them, but I will say that which ever house you do end up in you will find that they will be like your family and will help take care of you." With this, she turned around and pushed open the front doors, standing back to let the students make their way in. All heads turned, with eyes widening and loud gasps wringing out; " _Bloody Hell!"_ exclaimed one boy with red hair rather loudly. They had entered a massive entryway, it's ceiling being as high as a three story building. The left facing wall was covered in a tapestry; its ancient weavings depicting four individuals- two men and two women, along with their coat of arms. _Gryffindor; Ravenclaw; Hufflepuff; Slytherin._ At the foot of each individual was found their house symbol: a lion, eagle, badger, and snake. Beside the tapestry, inserted in alcoves in the stone wall were four giant hour glasses. Each of the bottom portions were currently filled with coloured stones: red, blue, yellow, green. A grand staircase leading to the second floor was situated along both the right and left facing walls, while stairs could also be seen that led clearly to the lower levels.

Interspersed along all walls were dozens of portraits, all of which currently held many curious individuals whom were all staring down at the nervous first years. Hermione had sniffed at the red head's vulgarity, though Harry secretly agreed with his sentiments. He couldn't help but think if this was just the entranceway, what did the great hall look like?

It was at that point that Professor Sprout led them forward, past the tapestry and main staircase. She stopped at two large, heavy wooden doors that Harry hadn't noticed earlier. Bringing out her wand, she tapped the door and stood back. With a loud creaking the doors opened forward, bathing the small students in a bright glow coming from the Great Hall. Entering, Professor Sprout turned back and beckoned them on. "Follow me children. Single file please." As they each entered individually, Harry couldn't help but look on in awe, and secretly think ' _Bloody Hell'_ indeed.

 ***** sigh. I hate myself... _Paws & Claws?! Seriously! I would like to blame this on my mind not being my own (perhaps one too many glasses of vermouth)..._


	3. First Impressions

HP FF first year ch. 3

 **Ch. 3. First Impressions**

AN- hmm

 **XX**

 _"RAVENCLAW!"_

 _Harry watched as the little blonde girl, Sally-Anne Perks, made her way quickly to the cheering table to sit between Padma Patil and Terry Boot. Harry grew excited, knowing that his name must be coming up soon. He was distracted by the sight of his friend Hermione, who was giving Harry a comforting smile._

 _Harry grinned back. To be quite honest, he wasn't terribly surprised that Hermione would have been sorted into Ravenclaw, as she did strike him as the type to be consistently studying, and excited to learn as much as she could. Still, he hoped that they could still maintain their new friendship after his own sorting, as they did seem to get along rather well on the train. After all, he didn't particularly see himself being sorted into Ravenclaw._

 _Harry was taken out of his musings when he heard Professor Sprout clear her throat._

 _"Potter, Harry."_

 _The moment his name was announced, he couldn't help but notice that the murmurings of different discussions suddenly ceased, and silence now encompassed the entire hall. As he nervously made his way over to the stool, he could see the majority of the students watching him with great curiosity. Sitting down, he smiled meekly, before it all went dark as the hat was placed over his head._

 _A voice began to speak to him, from where exactly he wasn't sure._

 _"Ahh Mr. Potter. Where shall we be placing you, hmm?.. " Harry sat nervously, his hands grasping tightly to the seat of the stool as he had listened to the inner monologue of the hat. The hat remained silent after for several seconds._

 _"I can see that you show some defining characteristics, I must say; quite a strong sense of determination- and very ambitious for such a young mind. You want respect... Interesting, and a desire for inclusion and acceptance, though with an underling fear of failure. Intelligence is also clearly a virtue...Hmm." Harry was all rather a bit confused by this. How could the hat be finding any of this from inside his head? Not that he was often in the habit of doing much self reflection, he thought._

 _The hat chuckled, "Oh, not to worry Mr. Potter! I can see these feelings, characteristics if you will, quite clearly. They would constitute as your predominant trait- in what you would desire to see in others, or you would desire to see in yourself. Perhaps you just favour them above all others, hmm? Of course, you aren't so simple to describe as just those few descriptions I relayed, however, they are certainly strong enough character traits that_ do _influence the way you interact and see the world around you. I try to see what would benefit you most, you see. I will look for what talents you possess and perhaps where you can harness them but I also take your interests into account too." The hat paused for a second, "You are certainly loyal, as I can see, and you do have a strong sense of fairness and equality, but I truly believe that Hufflepuff is not for you. As loyal as they are, stubbornness and naivety are also a common trait- neither of which I see you tolerating .. You would not share the same values as those that would make up a Ravenclaw, though you do seem to highly value their work ethic and determination, but no, that would not work.. Hmm.. I must say, this is quite intriguing.. Oh, what is this I wonder?" The hat mumbled to itself, causing Harry to scrunch his eyes closed in an effort to try to focus on what it was saying. He could feel a sudden pressure in his forehead, which he assumed was from the hat sifting through his thoughts and memories, stopping periodically to look upon them. Finally, curiosity got the better of him._

 _"Excuse me sir," the hat seemed almost to be surprised at his verbal interruption, "You know, you are the first one to actually interrupt my inner mumbling? At least tonight thus far." Harry seemed rather taken aback. "Well, I just have a question. May I ask a question sir?"_

 _The hat chuckled softly, "Of course you may. Of what are you curious about? If it is on whether I am able to not see everything well, sadly I must confess that there is very little of which that one can hide from me. I am like a true legilimens, in a sense, though I am not living." Harry just squirmed, not really understanding what the hat was talking about. "Yes sir, um, I am wondering if you are looking at my memories? I mean, are you using memories as a way of deciding where to place me?" Harry asked curiously._

 _The hat became silent, and Harry could feel a sense of confusion emanating from the hat's presumed consciousness. He could feel the pressure increase, and with the continued silence Harry surmised that the hat was deep in thought. After sometime had passed, Harry couldn't help but interrupt again, as he was worried that he had done something wrong._

 _"Sir, umm, have I said something wrong?" He thought nervously. The hat remained silent still, until finally he felt the pressure disappear and the hat sighed. To his great surprise, the hat almost seemed troubled._

 _"I must apologize Mr. Potter, but I unfortunately cannot sort you." Harry's mind went blank in shock._

 _"You c-can't sort me!? But why?" The hat responded, its tone becoming serious, "I must say, this is the first time I have encountered this, and I have sorted many students during my existence. In your position, Mr. Potter, I cannot choose an appropriate house for you because I cannot fully access you_." _Harry remained sitting, rooted to the spot. "I can't be sorted... I can't be sorted, but what does that mean?" Harry asked pleadingly, dread beginning to bubble up inside him._

 _The hat sighed, before continuing on more gently._

 _"When I sort an individual, I enter their mind and, usually, it is an open canvas for me. Before me I see an individual's talents, ambitions, insecurities, likes, dislikes, visions... For an eleven year old child, that may not seem like much, however, you would be surprised what their minds present to you when under microscope, metaphorically speaking. In this case, it is always the same. Every child I am placed on I see their persona and can place them where I believe they would be most suited. "_

 _"Couldn't you just put me in a house, just pick one?" Harry said desperately._

 _"I could, but that may, in the long run, be an unsuitable arrangement for you, Mr. Potter. How would you feel if I placed you in the wrong house? I must be able to base my choice off of what I can see from your mind, and in your case I cannot."_

 _Harry felt completely stunned, his nervousness growing by the second._

 _"But why? How can you not see anything? Is something wrong with me?" Harry panicked._

 _"No, but I believe... Hmm.. No matter, the only solution I can think of is that you choose."_

 _Harry was surprised but by this point, he was quite ready to take the damn thing off._

 _Thinking about all four houses, he thought quickly as to which ones he would think he would do best in. He pictured his two friends, Neville and Hermione, his dad, uncle Remus, his mum.. As if in an answer to his ruminating, the hat began to speak._

 _"I believe you have made up your mind... In that case, Mr. Potter, you have chosen-"_

"First years, listen up!" Harry was startled from his thoughts, when a tall, thin boy with red hair and horn rimmed glasses had descended from the spiral stairs that led to the boys dormitories. Stoping in front of the group of first years- which Harry realized by now had all woken up, dressed, and were now congregated before the fireplace-, he cleared his throat.

"As you may recall from last night's feast, I am one of the Prefects for Gryffindor house. My name is Percy Weasley, and I will be helping make sure you are all taken care of and settled in Gryffindor properly. It is early still, " Percy glanced down at his watch quickly, "so I thought we could get some house rules covered before we head down for breakfast." A grumble could be heard from one of the boys, whom Harry recognized as the red haired boy from the sorting. Percy turned to this young red headed boy, scowling with his arms crossed.

"Ronald, these are important to follow, and if you pay close attention, this need not take much time." Ron just sat back on the over-stuffed chair, huffing loudly.

Ignoring this, Percy carried on, taking on a pompous air. "We have four important mottos we adhere to: the first being we are members of Gryffindor house, therefore we stick together and will stick _up_ for each other; always having each other's back. Second, we must be brave in adversity, challenge our adversaries, but be just and fair in our victories. Thirdly, to fight amongst us, is to divide us, and we all know that a house divided falls. Fourthly- and I'm not sure exactly why this one is on the list here as it should just be common sense-," here Percy looked quickly at the slightly ruffled, younger red head. "but being considered brave and just does not permit or tolerate the act of piggishness or laziness. While you remain in Gryffindor house, treat it with respect. You will maintain some sense of decorum, and clean up after yourself. You will follow strict dress rules, which will be left in your dormitories, and adhere to proper bed times and study times also listed. If you have any questions, you can always come see me, or seventh year Prefect Elena Barry. You may also go to Professor McGonagall, who is our Head of House. Any questions?" With silent nods indicating the negative, Percy turned to walk away from the group, motioning for them to follow. "In that case, I shall now escort you down to the great hall. Along the way, I can point out classrooms and secret stairs and hallways that may help you get to your classes quicker." With that, Harry, Neville, and the other first years followed Percy through the common room and out the portrait hole.

 **Xx**

"Hey, 'oul' you pa' de po'a'os?" Harry had no clue what Ronald was saying with his mouth full of food, but by his fork-wielding hand jabbing towards the hash-brown laden breakfast tray, he figured it out fairly quickly.

Before he could continue on with his own breakfast, one of his other year mates- Seamus if he remembered properly, a boy with sandy coloured hair and lightly freckled skin, turned to speak to him while leaning over the table slightly. "Hey Harry! I _know_ you said last night you don't remember anything, but, are you sure you can't tell us, well, _anything_ about You-Know-Who?" His nose scrunched, as he said the last bit rather loudly.

Harry groaned, noticing that several students- including all his first year mates and several older ones, had stopped their own discussions and eating, turning towards him in curiosity. Before Harry could respond, Neville spoke first.

"Seamus, Harry already told you that he doesn't know, so you should stop asking him! Besides, why would anyone want to ever remember _that?_ " Neville said angrily, eyes glaring towards Seamus. The boy in question blushed, looking down at his food in discomfort. "Sorry Harry, didn't mean anything by it. Just curious is all.." He mumbled quietly.

Harry sighed, "S' ok Seamus...", while absently picking at his marmalade toast. Of course, he should have expected this...attention; his dad even warned him of it before leaving for school. He was the 'Boy-Who-Lived', saviour of the wizarding world, or some such rot. As a result, of course people would be curious about _him_ , and want to know what _he_ had done. It wasn't that Harry had never had individuals come up to him and acknowledge him before, but his dad tended to be pretty protective of him, and as a result he, Harry, lived a very private, almost normal life. His dad had only done a few interviews before when he was much younger, releasing what information he deemed necessary for the world to know, but in return he demanded for him and his son to be left alone. A few books had been published as well, but they were rather bereft of any 'finer details', though even admittedly, the only one time that his dad had ever told him what actually had happened that night on Hallowe'en, there really wasn't all that much to say. As Harry recalled what his father had said, his dad had been knocked out the whole time, which apparently was only around ten minutes total. But it was enough. Ten whole minutes for their lives to completely change forever. Harry could tell that night had affected his dad; _Probably still is!_ Harry thought bitterly. He knew that his dad was still upset, thinking that he had failed to protect his own _wife,_ Harry's mum...

"Mr. Potter!" Harry jumped slightly, looking up to see his Head of House standing beside him, arm stretched out holding a sheet of parchment. Professor McGonagall in question had a rather annoyed expression, her eyes narrowed slightly behind her rectangular glasses. "Kindly take your schedule please, as I do need to hand out the rest to your other fellow housemates."

"Oh, sorry Professor! Thanks." He said, after taking said item. Professor McGonagall sighed, moving further down the table, where Harry could hear her reprimanding some other students rather loudly. " _Mr. Weasley!_ You WILL put that away! It is only the first day back, for Merlin's sake! And you haven't even finished breakfast yet! Are you trying to test my waning patience?" Harry couldn't hear a response, but McGonagall certainly let herself be heard. "A _WHAT?!_ A personal _challenge?_ This is not some sort of _joke_ , nor should you take it upon yourself to think of it as so! Do not look at me like that, or I will be writing to your mother young man! I dare say she wouldn't be stopped from sending you- _yes! Both of you_!- a howler this early in the year!" Both boys seemed cowed, conceding defeat in their attempts at 'humouring' the professor. McGonagall just strode on, fuming, as she quickly finished handing out the rest of the schedules.

Harry grimaced, really hoping that he would never end up at the wrong end of this professor's ire. Nor, as he thought about it, would he _ever_ want to receive a howler from his dad. He made a mental note to either not get into too much trouble, at least not too much to warrant a thorough yelling, or even better! To not get caught in the act.

"Oh Harry, it seems we have transfiguration first! We'll be able to sit with Hermione!" Neville exclaimed excitedly. Harry peered at his own schedule, which would be the same as several of the other first years. That morning he and Neville had transfiguration and potions before lunch period. Looking towards Neville, he grinned. "We should probably head out soon, than, to get a good spot! I don't think Professor McGonagall would be happy if we were late, even if she is our head of house." Neville just nodded, swallowing loudly.

"Her and gran are good friends... So yeah, definitely not a good idea to anger..." Harry just looked at Neville curiously.

"Er... Which one should we not anger, Neville?" Neville just blinked, his face scrunching slightly.

"Honestly Harry, I'd say either of them..."

"Yeah, I'll take your word for it."

XX

As it turns out, Professor McGonagall was indeed the type of person whom one would not want to ' _royally piss off_ ', as Harry had overheard Ron mutter to Seamus as they had entered the classroom. By the sounds of Hermione's and Padma's exclamations of disapproval, and a few other students with surprised looks, he hadn't been particularly quiet about this declaration either.

The room itself was empty of the teacher in question, so the students sat down in groups, many of whom were sitting with their fellow dorm mates. Harry sat near Hermione and Neville, with Hermione sitting in the row closest to the front. They quietly talked amongst themselves as they brought out their assigned texts, parchment, and ink. Harry could still hear Ron going on with a few of the other boys; a warning by the sounds of it.

"I'm telling you, from what my brothers have said, you _don't_ want to get on her bad side. Or Snape, come to think of it. Fred says they have some pretty nasty punishments for those who break the rules..." They all shivered involuntarily, eyes widening.

"Did they say what they were...?" One of the Hufflepuffs asked. A curly, brown haired boy with a freckled, button nose Harry recognized to be Justin. Ron just grimaced.

"He said something to do with _mice_. And cats? I think... And pickles... Or did he say pickling?" Ron looked on doubtfully, "I can't _really_ remember, but yeah, supposedly they're the worst professors to get in trouble with. Others are easy in comparison! Well, 'cept maybe Filch. He's supposedly a right up cranky tosser that's in love with his cat." He said, grinning, as the other boys giggled.

 _Meow._

Ron, and the rest of the students already sitting, spun around in their seats, only to see a grey and brown tabby cat sitting on its haunches, tail flicking, and staring directly up at Ron.

"Er... Isn't that Filch's cat? Mr. Norris or somethin' like that?" Goyle asked confusedly. The cat turned sharply towards him, hissing loudly. Several students gasped, shifting their chairs further away from both the angered feline and Goyle himself. Hackles raised, its mouth widened to expose small, white fangs, while matching long, sharp claws dug into the stone floor. Even its back seemed to arch up longer and longer, until Harry and several others came to realize that the cat was actually _morphing_ into something else. Or, as it turns out, someone else. In the quick transformation that took place, which was no more than five seconds, there now stood a very riled up professor instead of just one riled up cat. Harry wasn't sure which one he would have preferred to deal with quite frankly...

Still glaring down at young Goyle, she grasped her hands tightly to her hips, and her nostrils flared while her thin lips grew even thinner into a tight frown.

" _Mr. Norris?!_ Mr. Goyle, I presume to think you mean MRS. Norris, but I won't even deign to respond to such- such foolish notions! Mr. Filch's cat indeed!" She sniffed in outrage. Goyle had the good grace to blush, sitting further back into his seat. Professor McGonagall turned, peering over the rest of the class.

"I usually show my animagus form- which looks _nothing_ like Mrs. Norris I might add, as an introduction to my first years. As it is your first day, I thought a demonstration of animal to human transfiguration would be quite enlightening, not to mention exciting." She began to walk down the aisle towards the front, students in turn following her gesture in their seats.

Without turning, she spoke again. "And Mr. Weasley, as it is just your first day, I will leave you- and your fellow classmates, with a little warning." She spun around, staring at the class until her eyes landed on the red head. Ron, as a result, just gulped rather audibly and shrunk further into his seat.

"Neither I, nor any other teacher or staff member tolerate any form of swearing or inappropriate phrase. Nor do we accept any form of disrespect- to _any_ of the staff might I add. And that includes Mr. Filch. There are no ' _nasty punishments_ ', though it seems that you are clearly misinformed and in need of some reminding. Perhaps a letter from Mrs. Weasley will not go remiss?" She lifted one thin eyebrow, as some of the students began to snicker. Ron's eyes widened, as his ears began to turn a dark red. He quickly shook his head.

Finally looking away, she spoke to the entire class. "I would strongly recommend you to _not_ believe everything you hear, especially when they include such grossly exaggerated descriptions as ' _royally pissed off_ '. Now!" With a flick of her wand, a stack of bundled parchments appeared, and began to float towards the rows of desks.

"This is your syllabus for the first term. Today we shall read through it, and go over the main principles and concepts of transfiguration that you will be learning about for this year." She held up her own copy, which she tapped lightly with her wand. The board behind her suddenly now held a largely magnified version of the first page.

 **Transfiguration-** **A study and practice of transfiguration magic: The manipulation of physical matter through magical energy.**

 **Categorized as : conjuration, transfiguration, conversion.**

Facing the class, Professor McGonagall peered at them all, tapping her wand lightly in her one hand.

"I hope you all have at least opened your assigned texts and read them over the summer holidays, as they will have informed you on all the rudimentary terms, which we will be going over." Several students nodded, while Harry could have sworn he heard Hermione mumble ' _five times_ '.

"Transfiguration- besides charms, is one of the most often used- and complex, form of magic that we utilize on a daily basis. It is also one that you will encounter most often, in some form, within your surroundings." Here she motioned her wand in a controlled downward arch.

 _"Aquamenti!"_

A stream of water began to gush out of the end her wand and towards the floor, but with a quick whirl, she banished the liquid. "Water conjuring falls in the category of elemental transfiguration, though it also can be classified as a charm as well. I wanted to show you how transfiguration magic _is_ magic used in everyday life, and a crucial form for you to master the basics of, if you ever want to be a fully qualified witch or wizard. Therefore, you _will_ pay attention, and do as you are instructed. I will not tolerate laziness, foolishness, or any disrespect. You have been forewarned." She eyed them all, before continuing on.

"As you can see, transfiguration can be classified in three forms: conjuration, transfiguration, and conversion. Can anyone define those three terms? They were all listed in the required readings so it should not be completely new." Only a few hands reluctantly raised, as most were somewhat timid to gain her attention. Surprisingly, only Hermione had raised her hand confidently, looking up in eagerness. Professor McGonagall looked to her, eyebrow raised.

"Miss Granger I believe? You may answer." Hermione cleared her throat softly.

"Yes Professor." She straightened up even more so. "The three forms, conjuration, transfiguration, and conversion, are three separate methods to attempting the manipulation of matter- in their biological or organic form. Conjuration has three different forms it can manifest: one being conjuration of something without the use of another object. Matter, as a fundamental rule, cannot be created nor destroyed, so it is probable, to say, that this form of conjuration is either completed by the said conjured object being made by matter from the surrounding area, or a form of spell similar to the summoning spell, and in that you already have the said object on hand. Conjuring in this form, using surrounding matter, will become more challenging naturally, as the bigger and denser the object you wish to conjure the more 'matter' you would need to take. The second form of conjuration is elemental conjuration, which you had demonstrated, Professor, with the Aquamenti. Elemental magic can also be classified as a form of charm, as it can be also cast from pure magical energy. For transfiguration, you merely conjure elements through manipulating basic elemental matter- hydrogen, carbon, oxygen, and others, around you. It is one of the simplest forms of conjuration to master. And thirdly, is conjuration of living matter. This is considered the most challenging of all three conjurations, as being able to 'create life' from _nothing_ is almost impossible. It actually _is_ impossible to be able to create life with magic alone, as is written in ' _Heuther's Laws of Magic',_ as he had stated that 'you cannot give 'life' to an object or spell that was originally not so. You cannot give them a brain, or any vital organs nor the magic necessary to sustain themselves.' In all cases of biological conjuration, the forms are usually mere shells, shadows, or glamours of what the real organism is. Hence why they have a short lifespan, so to speak. They _can_ mimic the actions of the living organism it represents, but it is all an image." Hermione said this all rather quickly, finally stopping to take in a deep breath. The class itself just stared at her in awe, or at least, the majority of the students- mainly containing her housemates, as some students could be seen sporting some rather sour looks. Professor McGonagall just peered at her with both eyebrows raised.

"I-yes, Miss Granger, thank you. Ten points to Ravenclaw for your thorough answer." Hermione relaxed slightly, glowering in her praise. The professor turned and tapped her parchments with her wand, as the board behind changed again, now showing the three conjuration forms that Hermione had listed.

"As Miss Granger has informed you all, correctly I might add, she stated the three forms of conjuration and their limitations. She also, though briefly, touched upon the subject of the basic laws that govern magical use _and_ non magical use too. It wasn't necessary, but I do appreciate an effort in thoroughly researching-" Harry could hear someone snort from behind him, "Yeah, and become a bloody brown-noser like her? No thanks." Several snickers could be heard accompanying this slightly hushed statement, though clearly not hushed enough as the professor narrowed her eyes at the speaker. Hermione herself had spun around, glaring at the group as her cheeks tinged to a light red.

"Well Mr. Finnegan, since you seem to be anxiously awaiting your own turn to speak, I will let you tell us what the forms are for transfiguring." Seamus' eyes widened, any form of laughter gone, as Ron and Dean looked at him rather sympathetically. Seamus just leaned forward, eyes flicking toward his text.

"Er, ma'am, well, transfiguring has t-to be done already with something, an object I guess. You wouldn't be transfiguring something from nothing?" He said, half heartedly. Professor McGonagall continued to peer over her glasses at him, "Anything else? What about the four different categories of transfiguration."

"Um, er, I know there's transfiguring an object into another object, and... And an object into an animal I think?" He said rather desperately. The professor seemed to finally take pity on him, as she waved for him to stop before he continued on. "Yes, thank you Mr. Finnegan. Five points to Gryffindor for your half answer." Seamus grinned, as his friends clapped him on the back at his success.

"Transfiguration indeed has four categories that it falls into." She tapped the parchments again, and the board shimmered, showing a new page. "'Non-living to non-living'; 'non-living to living'; 'living to living'; and 'living to non-living'. All are completely different forms of transfiguration, and all contain a great amount of concentration and practice to perfect. The same rules apply to transfiguration, as they are to conjuration, at least for any organic matter that is non-living. When transfiguring an object into another form, expect that the larger the object- which means the more complex the molecular structure either before or after the transfiguration- the more challenging it is to do." One of the students raised their hand, which the professor immediately looked upon.

"Mr. Nott, you have a question I presume?" The long haired boy nodded. "Yes professor. I am just wondering, what are the rules that are applied for transfiguration? The texts do go over the four methods of transfiguration, but I don't remember seeing anything about rules?"

"That is true. The issued text is for beginner level instruction, so it will mostly focus on inanimate to inanimate transfiguration, as you won't be instructed on any other form until second year at least. I will teach you the laws of transfiguration however, and we will go over the theory to other forms of transfiguration as the term progresses." She glanced over the class, contemplating her next words.

"Transfiguration has laws, which we ourselves haven't implemented. They are not unlike the laws that govern the universe itself; they exist and thusly it just works _that way_. These laws, which we will go over more thoroughly on a later date, include the Golden Rule of Transfiguring- you cannot permanently transfigure (or conjure) an object into a living organism, nor can you transfigure permanently a living organism into an non-living object. Any biological matter- be it plant, animal, insect, or human, etcetera, has a uniquely different molecular structure infused with its own magical signature- yes, even _nonmagical beings_ contain some trace amounts of magical substance. As you had learned earlier, you cannot create life from nothing, or give life to an object that did not have it prior, but nor can you disable and reform a living organism and its magical presence into something that is not. No amount of time and research ever done has proven otherwise, though morally speaking, it is probably better this way as it really isn't our right to manipulate another living form's freewill. The only situation where an organism may be permanently altered, through transfiguration, is if the organism is deceased. It's matter will be more malleable and easier to manipulate magically. There are other rules, however, though this one is probably the most important rule to remember for transfiguration. Transfiguration is a highly controlled field, so if you do intend to pursue it- whether for future study or career, remember that these laws apply, and any regulations are heavily enforced."

The professor tapped her parchment once more. "And finally, the last of the three we will discuss: conversion. This particular branch of transfiguration is, by far, the most complex and heavily controlled, form you will learn of. You yourselves, as first years, will not study the magic itself until sixth year, though we will cover basic theory and biological anatomy of plants, mammals- magical and non, and humans as the years progress. Conversion is not dissimilar to that of transfiguring a living organism to another living organism, however, in conversion, it isn't so much as completely transfiguring an organism's whole molecular structure so that it itself resembles something completely different, but manipulating parts, or specific organs or areas _of_ an organism." Here she paused to take a breath.

"It is highly meticulous and time consuming, in the extent that it often is a step by step process, meaning you must convert parts of the organism's anatomy in stages, versus transfiguring the creature in one uniform motion. Conversion could also be accomplished by a magically performed catalyst. The caster would, not so simply, manipulate certain anatomy in the organism, which would then trigger the organism to produce the wanted effect. An example being someone triggering the body's immune system by converting a controlled amount of cells into a -benign- antigen, so as to force the body into creating more antibodies. It is a very successful method in treating many varying infections, though as I had mentioned before it is a very controlled field of study. Another example of conversion, not in the form of a magical catalyst, would be the caster manipulating organic tissue or cells as a remedy. They can increase cell growth, or tissue, bone, muscle, or skin repair, however, it is in small proportions, as I had stated earlier, that most of it is in a step by step process. These small conversions can be used for bone fractures, lesions, inflammation, or increased cell growth." Professor McGonagall pursed her lips, eyeing the students thoughtfully.

"As you can probably see, conversion is mostly done at cellular level, and with the examples I gave you, most often used in the healing profession, as very few other fields of magic require such in depth knowledge of anatomy. The only other unique form of conversion transfiguration that is done on humans that _is_ unrelated to healing is animagus magic or small-scale human transfiguration. These, again, we will not be covering until later years. But- ", she quickly cast _'tempus'_ , showing that they only had a half-hour left of class. "I do have a few notes I would like you to take, before the class ends." She closed the parchment syllabus and with a quick ' _finite_ ' the board was back to normal. She waved her wand again, so that the board now showed neat writing filling up its entirety. "For the remainder of the lesson, you will copy these notes. They are an introductory to this month's focus on small-scale, single material based, inanimate transfiguration. You will do so, silently I must add."

For the remaining thirty minutes, the only sound that could be heard was the scratching of quills on parchment, as the students all copied the professor's meticulous notes. The subject matter of the notes themselves, to Harry and Neville's dismay, sounded so very challenging; and both boys knew that it would entail in a fair amount of tedious memorizing in the future and _way_ to much reading. _She calls this beginner level?_ Harry couldn't help but grumble, as shook out his cramping hand. Just after her little lecture alone, he already felt out of his element. _Well, the Hat certainly wasn't wrong about me not being good in Ravenclaw._ He snorted quietly, though that train of thought instantly brought him back to last night's 'sorting'. Or more, lack there of. He didn't really want to think what had prevented the Hat's decision making, so he would rather just ignore the whole event and put it as some already distant memory. He was a Gryffindor now! With a new sense of determination, he continued on to finish the notes, remembering that he was friends with Hermione, who seemed to already have natural grasp of the subject. If he _really_ had a problem he knew he could go to her for some help.

The class looked up when Professor McGonagall cleared her throat, "I just wanted to inform you before I forget, that conversion transfiguration also falls under the category of 'organic transfiguration' of which a few professors at Hogwarts have a mastery in. Professors Quirrel, Snape - which, by the way, is a requirement to become a potions master, Dumbledore, myself, and Madam Pomphry our hospital matron, have all acquired certain levels of mastery in conversion transfiguration. An interesting note should be made, Professor Quirrel has studied in the field- perhaps even more so than myself, and the others listed- and has made great contributions in personal research. I would recommend reading some of his published work, which can be found in the school library." They all jumped slightly, when they heard the bell ringing for dismissal. Professor McGonagall could be heard yelling over the din of chairs scrapping across the floor, as students packed away their belongings and prepared to make their way for their next lessons.

"Before you all leave, I want you all to read through chapter one, and the syllabus, and write a summarized form of both. I also require- in your own words, the categories of transfiguration we covered and their definitions, limitations, and examples. To be handed in two classes from now. Our next lesson will be practical so do not forget your wand! Now, off you go students!"

XX

"What lesson do you have next?" Hermione asked, as the three made their way down the stairs towards the main entrance.

"Potions with the Slytherins. What about you?"

"Herbology! We're with Hufflepuff, naturally. I'm kind of confused though, why was our transfiguration class with all houses, but now we're being split into two separate groups?" Hermione looked at the two boys curiously. "Wouldn't we be together in all our classes?"

"I think it's 'cause some subjects are more dangerous, like potions and DADA, and if you have a bigger class, it's harder for the professor to control... So they just decided to split those courses? I know my dad said that the school changed some of its rules a few years back, due to smaller student numbers, or something like that..." Harry replied slowly. "We could probably ask a professor. They'll know!" Hermione shrugged, looking somewhat put out.

"I suppose that makes sense... But we'll still sit together in our other classes, right?" She looked at them hopefully. Harry and Neville nodded, smiling. Neville patted her shoulder comfortingly.

"Course Hermione! It's only a few classes we don't have, plus we can meet up outside of our lessons." Reaching the bottom of the main staircase, Harry and Neville waved towards Hermione, as she began to head towards the front doors. "We'll see you later in history of magic, yeah?" Hermione nodded, grinning, as she quickly waved goodbye. Neville and Harry made their way down to the dungeons, trailing behind a group of Slytherins. They shivered slightly, as the air grew chillier and damper, the further they descended.

"I wish Hermione was with us. After transfiguration, I am really hoping that potions won't be as difficult..."

Harry nodded, though after reading the assigned potion's text, he really began to doubt that.

Harry grinned though, shoving Neville playfully. "Maybe this Professor Snape won't be as demanding though, hey? My hand is still sore from those notes we wrote earlier."

"Yeah, same." Neville sighed, "I really hope all the classes aren't this difficult. I have no clue what Professor McGonagall was even talking about! It was all way to technical... But at least we're friends with a Ravenclaw! Plus, wasn't your dad really good at transfiguration Harry? He could probably give us some help too."

"Yeah, I'm sure. I'll ask him when I write to him! He promised he would owl me tonight, to hear how the first day went!"

Both boys continued down the chilly passage, their juvenile voices echoing off of the stone walls and floor; neither aware of the figure that had been lurking in the shadows, listening, and watching, as the boys hurried to catch up with the rest of their classmates.


End file.
